Frozen
by roguefire28
Summary: Sam and Dean run into two sisters working the same career path they are while hunting down mysterious murders in Killeen, TX. But one of the sisters has something to hide . . . .


Frozen

"Are we ever going to live in a house again?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

Alexis Delaney took a deeper drag of her Marlboro and regarded her sister out of the corner of her eye. She knew life on the road was hard on Sarah. Part of her, the human part, felt bad about the life she had given her sister so far. She also knew that hiding Sarah away in nice house in the suburbs somewhere wasn't the correct answer either. Sarah had to know that their life was not normal and it had never been. Evil lived, it lurked, it breathed, it stole from the innocent and it always demanded more. Alex knew this as she knew evil intimately and well. It had invaded her life from the moment of her birth and had never left.

Sarah, for the most part, understood the work they had to do. She was not your typical teenager. Alex blamed the years on the road and lack of friends for her shy, introverted, and timid personality. Sarah had seen more in her sixteen years than most kids had seen in the sum total of horror movies they had ever witnessed. Alex found it amazing the girl wasn't worse off than she was. Alex could protect her from evil, from letting it physically touch her, but she couldn't protect her from knowing what was out there. She couldn't cover Sarah's eyes and ears and keep it from tainting her. The part of her that still felt emotions, that wasn't numb from the internal cold, wanted to take Sarah away from the darkness and hold her like their mother would have. But Alex was not their mother.

Their mother, Helen, had been beautiful, kind, caring, compassionate and generous. She had walked through life with her heart on her sleeve, always seeking to give more than she ever had to offer. Alex might have been that way too if destiny had taken her down a different road. She might have been that way too if her heart was completely human.

Alex sighed deeply and inhaled another drag. "You know we can't. I wish I could give you that kind of life but you know I can't."

Sarah studied the floorboard of the '66 Chevy Nova with a sadness that pierced Alex's heart to the core. Alex found herself wondering if she should have given custody of Sarah to another family member. It was not the first time she had wondered this, but every time she brought it up to Sarah her sister insisted she wanted to stay with her.

"You can do whatever you want when you turn eighteen," Alex told her. "If you want to go to college I'll take you there myself."

"I don't know what I want to do. I don't know anything other than this," Sarah replied with a hint of anger in her quiet voice. It was as close to angry as she ever came.

Alex noted the sign on the side of the road stating "Now Entering Lampasas" with a distant interest. Sarah reached over and turned the volume on the stereo back up. "Girl on Fire" by Rob Zombie came blasting out of the speakers and Alex pushed down on the gas pedal, taking the car above eighty, in an effort to get to their destination that much sooner.

Alex was never happier than when she was driving or putting some form of evil or another back where it belonged. She lived for the hunt. She breathed for the kill. She existed for the next job. It was her life, what she excelled at. Sarah could have a future; she could go to college, start a life, make a family, and live happily ever after. She was young enough to get out now while she still could, young enough were it hadn't yet consumed her existence. Alex on the other hand would die doing this work and she knew it. This fact didn't bother her. The work was dangerous and death was just part of the risk. Alex held hands with Death everyday she was alive. Every cemetery she entered, every house, every sewer, and every town held the promise of death. Death was her stalker and she accepted that. It wasn't the life she wanted for Sarah though. She wanted Sarah to get out and _live. _

Alex came up behind a black '67 Chevy Impala going the speed limit, which mildly irritated her, and turned on her blinker to pass. In the passenger seat Sarah had opened a book and was now reading with intense interest. Sarah lived for books. Alex often thought she hid inside them, escaping into a world where evil couldn't touch her and happy endings were guaranteed. Alex shot past the Impala and got back into the left hand lane.

They were headed to Killeen, Texas. A rash of murders had been reported in the local papers. Murder was not usually enough to cause an intervention but these murders were different. The bodies had been found drained of all blood. Police were baffled and the body count kept rising. Eight had been killed so far. These kinds of murders were right up Alex's alley. She lit up another cigarette and stomped down on the gas. It was going to be an interesting day.

Dean Winchester watched the dark blue Chevy Nova pass at a speed that attempted breaking the sound barrier. He barely caught a glimpse of the driver but was pretty sure it was a woman. The roar of the vehicle's engine caused his brother Sam to wake up from his nap and stare.

After the Nova had passed and was out of sight Dean turned to his brother.

"Tell me again what Dad said," he asked.

Sam sighed and sat up straight in his seat. He attempted to ease the cramps out of his legs with little success. "There's another hunter. A woman, around your age, travels with a younger girl and she's serious."

"Serious?"

"As in, she doesn't screw around. She's good at what she does," Sam clarified.

"So are we," Dean told him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know that, but she's _better_. Dad doesn't know how or why. He hasn't come up with anything more on her other than she's been tearing through the ranks of evil and leaving quite a mark."

"So are we supposed to find her or stay the hell out of her way?" Dean wondered.

Sam shrugged. "Doing the same kind of work, our paths are bound to cross sooner or later."

Dean accepted that answer. "What do we know about these murders?"

"Ahh, all the bodies were found drained of their blood. No suspects, no evidence. So far eight people have died," Sam responded.

"Vampire?" Dean guessed.

"Could be. We should also take into account that a few known demons have the same MO."

Dean nodded. "Welcome to Killeen," he announced. Then, as an afterthought, "I really hope it's a vampire."

"What? Why?" Sam asked.

"Van Helsing is my hero," he replied with a wink. "And I've always wanted a reason to shoot a crossbow."

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a Motel 6 and realized he was parking next to the same blue Nova that had passed him on the road earlier. Both brothers looked to the door of the reception area simultaneously as two young women walked out. One was about 5'3" and looked to weigh in at 120 lbs of all muscle and graceful moves. Her hair was deep auburn red, long, straight, and layered. She wore black leather pants, high heeled black boots, and a red halter top with sleeves that went up the arms but didn't attach at the shoulders. From what Dean could tell her eyes were a blue the color of ice over a frozen lake. The girl walking next to her had the same color hair, but hers was shorter and pulled back into a french braid. She wore a light blue long skirt with darker blue roses stitched into the fabric and a white tank top with a dark blue rose matching the ones on the skirt embroidered into the right shoulder. Her feet were encased in white open toed sandals and her eyes appeared to be the same color blue as the other woman's. As they watched the older woman handed a key to the younger one and went to the Nova.

"Sisters?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Sam," Dean started but stopped when the woman passed by his car and looked straight at him. Her eyes were piercing. They seemed to burn a hole through his body and into his soul where all his deepest fears and secrets were laid to rest. She was beautiful; for a moment he realized he had stopped breathing. She went to the trunk of the Nova as Sam opened his door and stepped out. Dean followed suit and slammed his door shut. He found his gaze traveling to where the woman was bent over with her head in the trunk. Dean felt someone else staring at him and turned, seeing the younger version of the women standing in the open motel doorway. As soon as their eyes met she dropped her gaze to the stone of the walkway under the weather-protective awning. She wrapped her left hand around her right bicep and stood there with one arm crossed against her chest, in a self-conscious manner. The woman shut her trunk and walked up to the motel room with two duffel bags slung over her shoulder. The way her arm was raised to carry them the form-fitting leather jacket she had slipped on rode up to reveal a .9 mm shoved into the waistband of her pants. She went into the room, the younger girl ahead of her, and Dean saw her kick the door shut as she went without even looking back.

Sam came around the side of the car as Dean noticed the younger girl peeking through the curtains at them. Dean turned and followed Sam into the motel lobby, lost in thought as Sam paid for a room and received the key. They went to their own car and retrieved their bags before entering the room right next to the one the women had retreated into.

"Dean," Sam started, shutting and locking the door. "I think that might be the hunter Dad was talking about."

Dean tossed his duffel bag onto the bed he had chosen for himself and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah? What makes you think that?"

"Just a feeling, I guess. I can't explain it," Sam replied absently.

"Well, I think you're right. Based on the gun she was carrying when she went into the room," Dean told him. Sam looked at his brother in surprise. "How many women that look like they could double as a model do you see walking around with guns in their waistbands?" Dean asked rhetorically.

"Not too many," Sam answered anyway. "And she's traveling with a younger girl, which fits Dad's description. But let's not jump to conclusions."

Dean shrugged. "Not jumping here." He stood up and stretched the kinks from the drive out. "We'll keep an eye on them."

Sam bobbed his head in agreement and pulled a fresh shirt out of his bag. He stripped off the one he had been wearing for the last two days and replaced it with the new one. Dean decided to follow his brother's example and did the same. He realized his stomach was growling in mild complaint against the lack of food in it.

"I saw a vending machine outside. Want anything?"

"Whatever. I'm going to see if there's anymore here I can dig up online before we take off again," Sam told him. He was already hooking up the laptop.

Dean left his brother to his research and walked back out into the mild early winter day.

"They were cute," Sarah ventured.

"Yeah," Alex responded in a tone that implied she didn't really care. Sarah watched her sister pull up photos of the eight dead people on the laptop and wondered if this was going to be her lot in life. Stuck in crappy motel rooms hunting down things that most parents told their children weren't real. Sarah held back the tears that threatened to spill. She missed Allison horribly. Allison had been loving and sweet, full of life and passion. She had talked to Sarah; spent time with her, made her feel loved and cared for. With Alex she was cared for and she knew Alex loved her. But Alex was different from Allison; the blood that ran through her veins was more predominant. When the twins had been born, unbeknownst to their mother, a demon had been in possession of their father. The twins had been born with the blood of a demon running quietly through their veins and it became more apparent as they grew up. Sarah was fully human, but Alex was not. The only thing abnormal about Sarah was that she sometime got visions when she touched people. Parts of their lives were transferred to her, memories, emotions; she had no way to know when it would happen. For Alex her demon blood gave her an edge in hunting. When she gave in to her demon blood she was stronger, faster, and tougher. The change was difficult for her though, because every time she gave into the blood she became a little less human and it was that much harder for her to come back. Sarah thought it was because of everything they had lost. They were all they had left to each other. When Allison had died Alex had pulled away into a shell of herself. She was cold, distant, and focused entirely on her work most of the time. Sarah was lonely. She wanted desperately someone to talk to, anybody who would listen and understand.

"Hey Alex?" she said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry. Can I have some money for the vending machine outside?"

"It's in my wallet. You know that," Alex replied.

Sarah took the money from Alex's wallet, fending back the pain and loneliness threatening to overwhelm her. Her hands shook as she opened the door and stepped out. Alex said nothing as she left, but she knew her sister would be keeping track of how long she had been gone before she came looking. Alex loved in her own way, protective and ever vigilant. Sarah knew this but sometimes that kind of love just wasn't enough. She was lost inside her own thoughts and was startled when she felt herself run into something solid and warm. Sarah looked up quickly to see that she had bumped into one of the men that had been in the black car beside theirs. He reached out his hands quickly and grabbed her shoulders to steady her. As soon as he touched her she jerked as images flooded into her mind. She closed her eyes against them but it didn't stop them from coming. _Sarah saw a young boy clutching a baby in his arms and staring up at a house that was rapidly becoming an inferno and a death trap for anyone left inside. She saw a rapid fire series of memories that seemed to have something to do with the boys' father and training against the supernatural. She saw the man inside a cave, and knew it was somewhere in Blackwater Ridge. He comes running out of a side corridor with a flare gun in his hand, aiming it at a horribly ugly and frightening creature ahead of him. As the creature turns around Sarah realizes it is a Wendigo. _

The images halted there and Sarah opened her eyes to see the man peering down at her in concern. Sarah flushed and backed away from his hands, which were still on her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry. I should have watched where I was going," she stammered.

"Nah. It's okay," he said, waving his hand as if to slap her words out of the air. "What's your name?"

Sarah hesitated, wondering if it was safe to talk to this man. Alex was always telling her to be careful about whom she trusted. If her vision could be trusted, however, Sarah knew this man and his brother were hunters just like Alex.

"Sarah," she told him finally.

They started walking toward the vending machine and Sarah realized that he had been going there too. He was handsome and she found herself staring at him. He carried himself with an easy confidence that almost spilled over into swagger. He was tall, about 6' and muscled with a broad chest and chiseled features. His light brown hair bordering on blonde was cut short and his eyes were a beautiful hazel color. He was dressed casually in a pair of faded blue jeans, black boots, and a navy blue t-shirt with the name of a band she had never heard of printed across the front. Over the shirt he wore a well used leather jacket that seemed like a second skin on him. His expression was friendly and open; Sarah found herself wanting to tell this man everything. She didn't know why but she trusted him.

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. The other guy, that's my geek brother Sam," he told her with an easy smile.

She smiled back and was startled to find that the expression felt unnatural on her face. She hadn't smiled in such a long time . . . .

"That your sister you were with?" he asked.

"Yes. Her name is Alexis."

"Alexis. That's an interesting name," Dean said.

"She hates it. Everyone calls her Alex. That's what she goes by."

They reached the vending machine and Sarah stuck her money in while Dean stood off to her side and watched. She took her time choosing what she wanted in an effort to keep him there longer. She was so lonely, so cold, without human contact outside of Alex.

"What brings you here?" Dean asked after a moment.

Sarah hesitated. She knew what he and his brother were, but she didn't think he knew about her and Alex. He certainly didn't know her older sister was a half blood. She studied the contents of the vending machine and wondered what to tell him.

"We're just . . . .passing through," she lied.

Alex would be upset if she said anything to him, and when Alex got mad it was hard for her to control the demon blood. She would never hurt Sarah, and she never had, but it was still frightening and Sarah knew it was hard for Alex so she tried to keep Alex from ever getting mad.

Dean nodded and waited until she had made her selection before sticking his own money in the machine. She clutched her bag of chips and soda to her chest and backed away slowly, not really wanting to leave, wanting to sit down and tell him everything, but knowing she had to. She trusted Dean and she thought maybe he could help Alex with what she was working on now, but she knew Alex would be furious.

"Nice talking to you," she said and turned to go.

"Anytime," he said and she turned back at the tone of his voice. It implied he understood more than she had given him credit for, was offering his help if she wanted it, and could always come to him if she needed to. She nodded at him to let him know she understood and walked back to her room.

"Alex?" she said when she got back inside.

Alex looked up from her laptop and waited for Sarah to continue.

"Those guys . . .," she faltered, unsure of how to proceed.

Alex leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting patiently for her sister to find the words she wanted to say.

"I bumped into one of them on the way to the vending machine," Sarah rushed forward with her words, knowing that if she didn't, she wouldn't say anything at all. "I got a vision from him."

Alex raised an eyebrow and nodded for her to continue. Her attention was now completely on Sarah, the laptop forgotten.

"He's a hunter. Like you. So is his brother. Their names are Sam and Dean. I saw him fighting a Wendigo, like the one you dealt with awhile back," Sarah continued.

"What are you saying Sarah? You didn't tell him anything did you?" Alex asked.

"No. I wanted to, but I didn't." Sarah sat on the end of the bed and opened her bag of chips. She felt the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks again and fought against them. "He's nice, Alex. I trust him."

Alex sighed and put her face in her hands. After a moment she stood up and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. "Sarah, even if they are hunters, they aren't like me. I'm not even human, sweetheart."

Sarah nodded and the movement sent a tear trailing down her face that had been revolting against her better efforts to hold them back. "I just thought . . . .well, I thought maybe they could help. They've been doing this for a long time. I could tell from the vision. And I just . . . .I just wanted somebody to talk to."

Alex came and sat down next to her, drawing her knees up and placing her chin on them. "Sarah, honey, I know you're lonely. I know you don't understand why we can't go settle down somewhere nice and live like normal people. I know you don't understand my demon half, and I also know it scares the hell out of you. These brothers, they aren't going to be able to take that away. And they can't alter the reality that this is our life."

"Why? Why does it have to be this way? Every time you use your demon blood you get worse. It changes you every time!" she cried. "Why can't we be normal? Why can't we stop for a little while and just be sisters?"

Alex could feel her sister's pain coming off her in waves and it penetrated to a part of her heart that was usually closed off. "I don't think they'll understand what I am. Even if they do, they hunt evil. Part of me is evil, sweetheart. What's to stop them from coming after me?"

"They won't," Sarah said with fierce passion. She knew in her heart Dean wasn't like that. She could feel it. "Alex, I'm lonely. I just want somebody to talk to."

"We do this because it's the right thing. Do you really think after all that's happened to our family and everything we know we could just buy a house and pretend there's nothing out there? Think of all the lives we've saved. Think of the people that still need help and they can't stop what's out there because most of them don't believe."

Sarah nodded. As much as she yearned for normalcy she knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing what lurked in the darkness and that it was killing people. As hard as it was on her she knew Alex was doing good in the world. As distant and hard as Alex was, Sarah knew her sister was far from evil because she did good everyday. She saved lives and deep down where no one else could see, she cared. She wanted to tell Alex that she knew she was more human than demon, that she knew in her heart that she would never let the evil inside her take over. More than that, however, she wanted her older sister to trust her judgment and in essence trust her.

Alex reached out and stroked her sister's hair, a reflection of her own, with a tenderness that surprised Sarah. She reached out and drew the younger girl into her arms, holding her tightly and making Sarah feel completely safe.

"I'm sorry I can't be like Allison for you, honey," she whispered. "I miss her too."

Sarah started crying then, knowing that it was okay to do so, and she sobbed into her sister's shoulder all her pain, rage, frustration, and loneliness. Alex held her while she cried; stroking her hair, telling her it would be okay. After a long time Sarah pulled away and wiped her eyes, now swollen from crying. Alex looked down at the floor for awhile, lost in thought, before regarding her sister again.

"I work alone, Sarah. That's just the way I do things. If you want to talk to them, if you _know_ you can trust them and that is what will make you feel better, then go ahead. I won't get involved though. If it will help you to have someone else to turn to, then I won't stop you from finding that," she said slowly.

Sarah was shocked. She had never expected this from Alex. She didn't think Alex had understood her pain and suffering, but now Sarah thought she had been wrong. Maybe Alex had known all along and didn't know what to do for it. It wasn't in Alex's personality now to be sensitive and compassionate; she carried her love for Sarah quietly and without display. She showed it in other ways that only Sarah could interpret as love. Sarah watched her sister get up from the bed and slide into her jacket. She checked the gun in her waistband, making sure it was loaded and ready, before sliding it back in. She picked up the keys to the Nova off the table and slid on a pair of sunglasses.

"I work alone," she reminded Sarah, the edge back in her voice. "If it turns out you're wrong, and they hurt you or come after me, I'll kill them both."

She opened the door to the motel room then turned around again. "I love you kiddo. I'll be back in a couple hours. I have to go down and speak to the police, maybe see if I can squeeze in talking to the coroner. Make sure you put your amulet on."

After Alex had left Sarah went to her bag and pulled out the necklace with the silver charm on the end. It had been blessed with good magic a long time ago. Her mother had worn it before she died and since Sarah didn't have demon blood to protect her Alex and Allison had both insisted she wear it. It protected the wearer from scrying eyes, from evil being able to find her. She slipped it on and tucked the end of it away in her shirt.

Sarah still couldn't believe her sister's uncharacteristic show of emotion. What had gotten into her? Alex had a heart, Sarah knew this. That heart, however, had been encased in ice since Alex had lost her whole family except for Sarah. Every time she used the demon blood her heart got a little bit darker, a little bit harder to reach. Alex guarded herself carefully, tried not to overuse the power when she could avoid it altogether, and protected her heart with a defense of hostility. The only one she ever showed any kindness to was Sarah, and that was on the rare occasion when Sarah could get her attention away from Alex's work long enough for her to reach the humanity inside her. Sarah had always wondered if there was a way to strip the demon part from Alex just as surely as the evil in her ate away at her humanity. She wanted to find a spell, a person, an object, anything that could take away that part of Alex forever.

Sarah thought absently as she slipped into a white knit sweater styled like duster that if she could just get Alex to speak to Dean then she would trust him like Sarah did. Maybe, with luck, Dean could help her.

Sarah left the motel room then and went next door. She stood outside for a few minutes, suddenly unsure of herself, before mustering the courage to rap softly on the door. A few seconds later the door opened and Sarah found herself looking at Sam, the other brother. He was as tall as Dean and just as well built. His features, too, were chiseled and well defined like Dean's. Unlike Dean his hair was long and dark brown, kept in a mess of waves that spilled over to brush against his eyebrows. His eyes were dark brown and gentle. He wore a plain gray shirt with a pair of dark blue jeans and tennis shoes. Sarah liked him immediately, before he had even opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey," he said in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Dean said . . . .," she started and then wondered what she was doing there.

Sam smiled and it immediately put her at ease again. "Come on in."

Alex parked the Nova at the police station and wondered if she had done the right thing. Sarah had really seemed to trust that guy. She already knew Sarah would spill their whole life story to them; and the thought made her want to drive back and stop her. Alex knew that if she didn't let Sarah do this, however, the secret would destroy her. The loneliness would kill her and suck out all the things that made her sweet, innocent, and wonderful. If Alex didn't allow her this one thing she could lose herself and turn into a younger version of Alex herself. It broke what was left of Alex's heart to think of that ever happening. And for this reason alone she had relented and allowed her sister this one thing, even if it meant the ruin of them both. Alex would do what she had to do to protect them both if it turned out Sarah's trust had been misplaced.

Alex opened the doors to the police station and walked in like she owned the place. Several of the younger officers stopped to stare; it wasn't everyday a gorgeous young woman that could put most models to shame waltzed through their doors. It was one of these officers that she approached with a false report on someone following her through the streets of downtown Killeen in a black Ford truck. She made all the right moves, planted all the right expressions on her face, and when she was done filing the false report she shyly asked the young Officer Roberts if he would like to join her for coffee after his shift.

"Why, yes ma'am. I'd love to join you for coffee," he replied. "I get off at nine. Is that all right?"

He had a slight southern accent to his voice and he wasn't that bad looking either. But to Alex he was just a means to an end. She told him that nine was fine and she would meet him at Denny's at nine thirty. They parted with plans for a date and Alex departed for the coroner's office. She was going to be later than she had originally told Sarah, with the plans for the information pumping session scheduled much later than she had intended. She walked out to the car and slipped her cell phone from her jacket pocket. She would have to call Sarah and let her know.

Sarah slipped past Sam and entered the motel room, an exact replica of her own, and smiled at Dean when he turned the television off and sat up on the edge of his bed. Sam offered her a seat at the table, which she took, and sat down across from her. Dean moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed directly across from the table.

"What's up, Sarah?" he asked casually.

Sarah swallowed hard, wondering how to start this conversation. "I lied to you," she told Dean at length.

Dean raised an eyebrow with a hint of a smile on his face and nodded slightly. "What about?"

"You asked what we were doing here. We aren't just passing through," she clarified. "We're here, well Alex is here, on a job."

Sam crossed his arms on the table in front of him and leaned forward. His face was kind and open. He had a reassuring presence that made her feel secure and safe. She felt that even if the Boogeyman came bursting through the motel room door he wouldn't be able to lay a finger on her as long as she was with these two. It made her smile inwardly. It was the feeling she got whenever Alex was around. Alex was near unstoppable in a fight. She had taken both martial arts and gymnastics near all her life. She had enrolled in both at the tender age of 5 and had competed in both all through high school. She had taken her experience with her to the police academy at the age of 19. She had been accepted and then underwent more training including gun handling courses. She had graduated top of her class, with high marks in the shooting range. She could put a bullet in you exactly where she wanted from a longer range away than Sarah really wanted to comprehend. She didn't need weapons most of the time. Alex _was _a weapon. She was efficient, deadly, and you just didn't want to mess with her. It was almost as if she had spent her whole life in training for this.

"What kind of job?" Sam asked.

"One like you do," she turned to Dean suddenly. "I saw. I'm sorry, but I saw the fire. I saw you holding your brother, I saw the Wendigo." She looked at the floor just as suddenly and studied it carefully. "Sometimes . . . .sometimes when people touch me, I see things."

"Well," Dean said, clearing his throat and getting to his feet. "Guess our cat is out of the bag."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. I . . . I can't . . . .control it," she cried.

"It's okay," Sam assured her and Dean nodded his agreement. "I see things too sometimes, in my dreams."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. How old are you?" Sam asked curiously.

"Sixteen," she replied. "My sister is twenty five."

"That's quite an age gap," Dean remarked.

"My mother didn't mean to have me," Sarah said quietly. "She always called me her miracle child."

Sam smiled at this and sat back in his chair. "So you know about us, how about you tell us about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell about me. I go where my sister goes. I stay in the motels most of the time, or else right by her side. Ever since . . .well, she's just overprotective. She has custody of me now," Sarah said.

"What happened?" Dean asked, sitting back on the edge of the bed and placing his elbow on his knees.

Sarah got to her feet and started pacing, wondering where to start and how much to say. Should she tell about the twins and their demonic heritage? Would they understand? She was suddenly flooded with doubt and wanted to turn around and run back to her own room. She wanted to retreat into her romance novel where love was everywhere and came in abundance and there was always a happy ending around the corner.

"Sarah," Dean told her. "Whatever it is, you can tell us. Anything you want. It's okay."

She nodded and clung to his words as if they were her lifeline. She locked gazes with his and used the meager contact to anchor herself.

"My sister, she's good at what she does. But she's special. She has an edge neither one of you have," she began. "My mother, Helen, gave birth to twins in 1981. She named them Allison and Alexis. But she didn't know that our father was demonically possessed at the time of conception."

She stopped and searched their faces for any hint of their reactions. Dean sucked in his breath and raised his eyebrows while Sam remained calm and passive. He nodded encouragingly to Sarah and she plunged ahead.

"The twins came out with demon blood in their veins," she said. "It wasn't until they were older that my parents figured this out. They called every priest and specialist they could find but nobody could take the demon blood away. It was part of them, part of who they were."

"What does it do?" Dean interrupted.

"It makes her stronger, faster and tougher. But using it comes with a price. Every time she lets the demon blood take over she loses a piece of her humanity. She comes that much closer to letting it swallow her whole," Sarah responded with tears shimmering in her eyes. "Alex isn't evil. She's really not. We've both lost so much and it was really hard on her. But she gets up everyday and she saves people's lives when she doesn't have to. She may not seem much like a human being when you first get to know her. But she isn't evil."

Dean nodded, his eyes unreadable, lips tight together. "You said there were twins. Then you said that the demon blood makes 'her' all those things. What happened to the twin?"

A single tear trailed down Sarah's cheek and she swiped quickly at it. Talking about Allison was the worst. "We all grew up happy. It was hard for the twins, especially when they got angry, to control their darker sides but we managed. Alex went through martial arts and gymnastics her whole life and Allison did dance and choir. I played the violin and our parents supported all of it. We were happy. And then my mother got sick. We found out it was a demonic possession and nothing we did could save her. She was killed by the thing inside her. My father took it hard and threw himself into studies of the supernatural world. Allison stayed home from college permanently at this point because my father was gone all the time. He would leave for days, sometimes weeks, at a time and never told us where or why. Alex was working as a police officer and she supported us all."

"She was a cop?" Dean asked incredulously.

"A good one," Sarah told him. "We lived together for a long time and the twins started studying what my father was chasing after. They fell into the world of the supernatural just like he had, although they probably had more of a pull to it with their blood and all."

Sarah stopped as her cell phone started ringing and she checked the caller ID to see that it was Alex. She held up her finger in a 'one second' motion and put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"I'll be out later than I thought. I made a date with a cop to pump him for information. I'm heading to the coroner's now."

"Is that even legal?" Sarah wondered.

"Going to the coroner's?"

"No. The cop thing. Is that legal?"

"I don't know but it gets the job done. Anyway, I'm supposed to meet him at nine thirty for coffee at Denny's. Are you going to be okay by yourself?" Alex asked.

"I'm not by myself," Sarah told her.

"Oh you're with those guys," Alex said.

"Sam and Dean," Sarah corrected.

"Yeah. Sure. Just be careful. I'll be home by eleven if everything goes as planned. That all right?"

"Sure. Eleven. See you then," Sarah told her.

She hung up the phone and slipped it back into her sweater pocket. Dean looked at her curiously.

"So Alex knows you're here," he stated.

"She's the one that told me it was okay to come over and talk to you."

Dean nodded and motioned for her to continue. "Anyway, we found out my father had been murdered in 2002. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The twins took me out on the road with them and we spent two years searching for answers. All we came up with is the suspicion that it was a cult centered somewhere in rural Indiana. It was dead end after dead end, but in the meantime we were finding everything else that lurked in the dark. Then Allison got sick just like Mom did. Alex did everything she could to save her but the demon killed Allison, too. Alex snapped after that. She was never the same. Eventually she went back to hunting, but she was a completely different person. She had custody of me so I had to go with her. She keeps me safe, keeps me out of most of it. I think she blames herself for what happened to the family. Especially Allison."

They sat quietly for a moment before Dean stood up again and paced around for a moment before settling with his back against the far wall and his arms crossed over his chest. "What are you asking of us Sarah? You didn't come in here and spill your life story for the fun of it."

"I want you to help her. We spend every day of our lives together with little to no contact with the outside world other than when she's on a case. Everybody dying on her, the demon blood, she's not the same anymore. I would go so far as to say she's almost not human but that's not right either. She does good things, she saves people, but she doesn't feel. The only person she shows emotion to is me and that's a rare occasion. I just want her to be the way she was."

"I don't know if we can do that, Sarah," Sam said carefully.

"But you can help her with this job. Maybe if you help her she'll come around. Maybe if she has to be around other people it will help her feel again," Sarah said quickly. "I don't want to lose her too. If she keeps this up, she'll lose all of her humanity soon. I also thought maybe you could try and help me find a way to strip the demon part of her away."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Sarah sighed. "I told you, the demon blood steals her humanity. It makes her into . . . .something else. Not quite evil but not good either. I thought that if the demon part could take over than so could the human part. Maybe there's something out there that could help," she said.

Dean shrugged and made a "who knows?" face. Sam nodded to himself. He leaned forward on the table and clasped his hands together. "When your sister called, where was she going?"

"The coroner's. After that she had made a date with a cop to pump him for information," she replied.

"Smooth," Dean laughed.

"Call Alex and tell her that Dean is going to join her at the coroner's and ask if she'll wait for him," Sam told her.

"I am?" Dean asked. "Well, now that my evening has been decided . . . .I guess I don't have to worry about which crappy movie to watch on the tube."

Sarah called Alex's cell phone. Her sister answered on the third ring.

"Yeah?"

"Are you at the coroner's?"

"Not yet. Why?" Alex responded with an edge of suspicion in her voice.

Sarah told her what Sam had asked her to say and waited through a lengthy pause.

"Sarah, I told you I work alone."

"Give him a chance, Alex. Please," Sarah begged. "He can help you, he really can."

There was another long silence and Sarah could practically hear her sister thinking it through. Sarah prayed that Alex would let Dean join her.

"This is really what you want? This is what will make you happy?" she said finally.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you need other people. You can't always be alone."

"You're afraid I'm losing my humanity," Alex said, cutting right to the point.

"Yes."

Alex sighed. "Tell him to hurry up. I'm not waiting forever."

Her sister hung up and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She relayed the message to Dean who quickly grabbed his keys, wallet, and jacket.

"I'll stay here with Sarah and look into getting rid of the demonic part of Alex," Sam told his brother.

Dean nodded and walked out the door.

Alex hung up the phone and tried not to be angry at her sister's perceptiveness. Sarah was right to be worried. Alex _was_ losing her humanity. Everyday she lived she felt more dead than ever. She was freezing inside and had been for a long time. Ever since Allison's death. Her world was made of ice and she was just a statue moving within its parameters. She was so cold without real human contact, frozen without love. Everyday she froze she died a little more, lost a little more of what made her human.

It was hard enough clinging to the emotions that made one human when you were only half human to begin with, but harder still when you had lost so much. She was so good at facing the darkness because she herself was part of that darkness. She lurked inside it as easily as that which she fought, covered herself in shadows and stalked through the night with the ease of any predator. Sometimes it was so much easier not to feel; so much easier just to be numb and frozen.

She didn't know what Sarah hoped to accomplish by sending Dean to her. Her little sister worked in mysterious ways and was now Alex's sole reason for clinging to any kind of emotion. She couldn't leave Sarah alone in the world no matter how much she wanted to give up and give in. Sarah's compassion and kindness managed to penetrate her heart every now and then, just enough to allow her to hold on a little longer.

She stepped out of the Nova and slipped a cigarette from the pack in her pocket. The night had grown chill but Alex didn't feel it. She stuck the cigarette in her mouth and thumbed down on the lighter wheel. She stuck the lighter back in her pocket once the cigarette was lit and took a deep drag off it.

She would never admit it to anyone but being half demon had its perks. How else would she be able to throw a demon twenty feet? It gave her power that rivaled that of which she fought. She couldn't deny the power was intoxicating. The feeling of invincibility and utter control. Sometimes it was hard to control the blood in her veins. On bad days it wanted to swallow her whole without any provocation whatsoever. On good days it lurked beneath the surface, calling to her in a hushed whisper only she could hear. When she got angry it boiled over, trying to consume her entire being and she had come close to giving in a few times. It was like a tide, it rose and it fell, and all she could do was try not to drown.

It had been easier to deal with when Allison was still alive. Allison understood what she felt everyday, the fight to stay human, to remain good. They had gone through it together and supported one another. If ever one fell the other picked her up. They had been like night and day but they had been so close. They had been the kind of twins that could read each other's thoughts and finish each other's sentences. Night and day. Fire and ice. So different and so very the same. Alex missed Allison more than she ever allowed herself to feel. She felt that she honored her sister by continuing their work, which had gone beyond merely vengeance and into the realm of just doing the right thing. How could a person sit by and let evil take over when one had the power to stop it? Allison would have wanted her to continue but it would have pained her to see how far Alex had fallen.

Alex's thoughts were disturbed by the roar of a car engine and she watched the black Chevy Impala pull into the parking spot beside her Nova. She turned as the driver stepped out and took one last drag of her smoke before dropping it to the pavement and snuffing it out with the heel of her boot.

The man with the short blonde hair and black leather jacket approached her with an easy, confident gait that told Alex he knew what he was doing and had been doing it a very long time. He was handsome, Alex would give Sarah that much. She still couldn't believe she had agreed to work with him.

"How much did my sister tell you?" she demanded without prelude when he reached her side. He stood nearly nine inches taller than her and it perturbed her that she had to look up at him to meet his steady gaze. He had gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Everything," he replied evenly.

She knew that he knew about her demonic heritage. She nodded curtly. "I'm Alex Delaney."

"Dean Winchester."

"We've got work to do," she told him and walked toward the coroner's office.

He followed behind her, shoving his hands in his pockets, and as she swung the door open a bell jingled overhead. _Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. _Her mother had used to say that every time they had heard a bell ring.

A younger man appeared from a side door at the sound of the bell and regarded the newcomers with curiosity. Dean shifted his feet impatiently and Alex walked up to the man.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"Maybe. I'm here about the deaths. The ones where the victims had all the blood drained from their bodies."

"And you have what jurisdiction?"

Alex pulled a tightly rolled wad of money from her pocket and pushed it against his chest, making sure to move her body as close as she could stand it in a provocative way.

"Three hundred dollars oughta be enough jurisdiction," she told him in a husky tone.

He took the money and stuffed it into his white lab coat pocket before looking around nervously. He nodded to her and Alex noticed his eyes lingering on her body. She had an overwhelming urge to gouge them out with her nails.

"This way," he told them and opened a door into the back.

Alex let Dean go first and followed after still trying to wrestle back the urge to maim the coroner's assistant. He led them into a morgue, all cold steel and sterilization and slid three slabs out of the shelves on the back wall. Two more bodies were covered in white sheets on gurneys in the middle of the room. Trays of gleaming silver instruments of dismemberment and pain lay next to the tables. Alex was disturbed by the course of her own thoughts. She stood next to Dean on one side of the first slab as the medical assistant stood on the other.

"I hope you've already digested dinner," he told them.

He jerked back the white sheet covering the body and Alex found herself staring at a young woman, probably in her early twenties. Her body looked to be made of blue and gray marble. Bruises covered her upper arms where the assailant had most likely grabbed her and Alex smelled blood under her nails that was not her own. The realization that she could still smell trace amounts of blood sickened her. It had been a long time since she had been in a position to be able to do that and she had almost forgotten that she could. The woman had been very pretty in life and still held an air of beauty even in death.

"Her name was Jennifer Saunders, age 23, was a stripper by trade. She died outside of her workplace in the early hours of the morning. No witnesses," the man said. "I'm sure the cause of death is apparent enough to avoid a discussion on the topic."

Indeed it was. Jennifer Saunders had had her throat ripped open savagely. The entire right side of her neck looked like it had been used as a chew toy for Cujo. Alex looked harder and could see the impression of horribly sharp canines imprinted in the skin and within the wound itself. Whatever had done this had one hell of a dentist's bill. Alex thought maybe the culprit's canines were curved, like a saber-toothed tiger's might have been, only on a smaller scale. It was obvious the murderer had ripped open her throat first and sucked all the blood out like a small Hoover vacuum cleaner afterwards. These were not the relatively neater puncture marks of a vampire.

Alex looked up at Dean and could see he was having trouble dealing with the gory scene before him. He slid his eyes away from the cadaver and swallowed hard but made a bold effort to suck it up and not show it that Alex respected. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

The medical assistant showed them the other two corpses, both female and approximately the same age as the first victim. Both women had been killed in the same manner as the first one, throat torn up and blood drained out.

"These are the two newest," the medical assistant said and led them to the two gurneys in the middle of the room. When he pulled the sheets back the two women on the slabs of metal looked slightly less statue-like and Alex could see the chalk white of their skin. There was no blood left in their bodies to provide them with any color. Their throats had been ripped out in the same fashion as the other three. All the women had bruises on their upper arms which led Alex to believe the pattern of attack was simply grab, hold, and have dinner. One woman had multiple bruises and lacerations that suggested she had fought back fiercely. The lacerations were jagged and deep. Alex knew they didn't come from any knife. Those cuts had been made by claws similar to that of a werewolf's. The bruises were deep and penetrated below and into the muscle, which told Alex the attacker was unusually strong.

The medical assistant covered the bodies back up with practiced detachment.

"Any questions?" he asked.

"Where are the other three bodies?" Alex inquired.

"The bodies of the other three victims have been either buried or cremated according to the wishes of the families. Any other questions?"

"Not that you can answer," Dean replied.

"Then I think it's best that you leave before the coroner returns."

They thanked him and exited the building. Outside the temperature had dropped further and plumes of mist appeared in the air when they breathed.

"It's not a vampire," Alex said, stating the fairly obvious. "Possibly a werewolf."

"Werewolf huh?" Dean echoed.

"It is a full moon."

"Demon?" Dean guessed.

"Maybe, but we won't know until we find out where the bodies were found and go check out the scenes of death. Maybe our killer is still lurking around one of them."

"Oh goody," Dean said sarcastically.

"You're going to have to face the possibility that the demon half of Alex can't be removed," Sam was telling Sarah.

Sarah sighed with a profound sadness that hurt Sam to hear it and lay down on Dean's bed. She stared at the wall just above Sam's head and seemed to be lost in a distant memory that Sam could not see.

"I remember when she was happy," Sarah said. "She was happy when Allison was with her and when she was working on the police force."

Sam listened as he continued his internet search for any means to grant Sarah's wish. He didn't think it was possible, personally, but he was willing to try for this girl's sake. He felt connected to her on a level that he didn't quite understand. It was obvious this was not the life she had sought and she bore the burden of it with a quiet strength. Sam, too, had tried for a different life. He had tried going to college and he had fallen in love. Jessica had been his whole world and he had held hopes of one day marrying her and starting a family. He had wanted a quiet life, a normal life, with normal holidays and happy evenings where his family could sit down to a nice dinner and talk about normal things. It would seem that his destiny lay elsewhere. He thought back to when Jessica had died and the pain he had endured. The feelings of guilt and rage at not being able to save her, and he thought he sympathized with Alex too.

Sarah wanted to salvage what was left of her shattered family. Alex was all she had left in the world, and the girl wanted to save her older sister's soul from the darkness that threatened to consume it. It was a noble cause to undertake but possibly a futile one. It was a likely possibility that the demonic half of Alex was a part of her that could not be erased and instead had to be controlled, tamed, and coped with. Sam found it more likely that Alex's feelings of guilt, rage, loss, and emptiness were fueling the uprising of her demonic blood and making it harder for her to control. Losing three different people so close to you, especially a twin, was enough to make anyone pull away from the world and live in a shell of emptiness and cold. Add onto that her heritage and it was a wonder she even had any humanity left at all.

"Sometimes she's happy with me," Sarah continued quietly. "It's not that she doesn't love me and it's not that she doesn't feel, I think she does. I think it's more that she just doesn't show it. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she doesn't feel anymore."

"Sarah, if she let you come over here and ask for our help then she has to feel something. That was love in and of itself. I get the feeling that Alex isn't the kind of person who runs around asking for help."

Sarah shook her head. "No. She hates being helped."

Sam closed the laptop and leaned forward in his chair. "I think your sister just needs to feel again. She needs to remember what it's like to love and be loved."

"She knows I love her."

"It's possible she's at a stage in her life where she needs a kind of love you can't offer her. She may not even realize that's what she needs."

"Like with a boy?" Sarah asked.

Sam laughed. "Possibly. Sometimes an intimate love, like the kind you find between two adults, can be your saving grace. It can redeem you in a way that family love can't. I can't really explain it; you're just going to have to trust me."

"Yeah, well, I don't know where she's going to find that. She doesn't give anyone a chance to get that close. Plus, with what she does, she's never in one place long enough to fall in love."

Sam shrugged and reopened the laptop. He thought of Dean then and realized just how alike he and Alex were. Dean had removed himself from the world of overt emotions a long time ago. He still felt as deeply as any other human being but he didn't show it on the surface. He tried to act tough all the time and set up defenses that were sometimes hard to break through. He had grown accustomed to his vigilante, rolling stone lifestyle. Dean lived for this stuff and it was what he was good at. Sam thought deep down Dean desired the quiet, normal life just like he did but Dean wouldn't be the first to give up the lifestyle they lead now. He wondered if Dean would be able to break through the defenses Alex had set up, defenses that Dean himself had built around his own heart. Sam realized that Sarah was staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You've lost somebody too, haven't you." she said and it wasn't a question.

Sam sighed and began to tell her his story.

Alex checked her watch as she stood with Dean in the parking lot of Denny's. It was 9:15. In fifteen minutes she would have to go in and pretend to be more human than she felt. She would have to smile, laugh, and flirt like any other woman her age and she would want to be shooting herself in the head the entire time. They had decided that Dean would go in as well, shortly after she did, and sit in a booth near hers. They hoped that he would be able to hear the conversation so that she wouldn't have to repeat all the details.

"Whatever is responsible for the killings, I don't think you and your brother have anything worry about," Alex told him.

"All of the victims were women," Dean said, catching onto her train of thought.

She nodded. "Same basic age group and all of them killed in the same fashion. The bite marks suggest curved canines, approximately an inch long no more than two inches, and the lacerations suggest claws similar to that of a werewolf. The one with multiple bruises and lacerations, the one who fought back, her bruises suggest that the killer is unusually strong. The bruises weren't on the surface; they were at least muscle-deep."

Dean stared at her. "You really were a cop."

She blew the smoke from her cigarette out of the side of her mouth and chose not to respond. It was true her training as a police officer had taught her many things about crime scenes, but it was more that she had been doing this line of work for so long she had learned how to pick out the finer details and make sense of them.

"So why only women?" Dean wondered aloud.

Alex shrugged. She had been wondering the same thing but hadn't come up with a reason that worked for her logic.

"We don't even know what it is yet. Once we figure out what we're dealing with we can figure out the rest," she answered.

She spotted a police car driving down the highway toward the restaurant and reached up, shoving Dean down next to his car with the strength of a full grown man.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded from his crouch on the pavement.

"The cop is here. I don't want him to see you with me," she replied simply.

She turned on her heel and walked across the parking lot to stand in front of the doors of the restaurant.

Dean slid into the booth behind the one that Alex and her date were occupying and opened the menu. His back was to Alex's and he could hear every word as clearly as if he had been sitting next to her. He smiled to himself. _Boy she's laying it on thick. _He read through the contents of the menu and listened to her go on about her experiences as a cop. The twosome swapped cop stories and ordered their drinks. The waitress stopped at Dean's table and smiled down at him. She was a cute little blonde with a sunny smile and a sweet disposition. Dean found himself thinking of motel rooms and a midnight romp.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" she asked.

"Ah, coffee, please," he replied.

"Do you need more time before you order?"

"That would be nice," he told her.

She nodded once and walked off to the kitchen, presumably to get his drink.

Dean waited through forty five more minutes of meaningless chitchat until they had all ordered and the food arrived for both tables. He was surprised at how well Alex played her part. Dean had a feeling they would get all the information they needed and then some. Alex was beautiful, smart, witty when she wanted to be, and hard to resist. The whole time they had been in the coroner's office he had to stop himself from staring at her. His brain had come up with several different scenarios for the two of them, all of them ending in a bedroom. He smiled as the waitress handed him his cheeseburger and fries. The waitress was cute but Alex was _hot. _Dean still couldn't believe she was half demon. He had seen evidence of the emotional numbness Sarah had been talking about in the way she talked and her interaction with others. She hadn't even blinked when the coroner's assistant had uncovered the bodies. The sight of the women's mutilated corpses hadn't shaken her in the least. She had recounted the evidence with all the detachment of a narrator talking about how lions mate on the Discovery Channel. And the way she had thrown him to the ground. . . .he couldn't believe how strong she was. He was at least a little less than a foot taller than her and she had handled him like he weighed as much as a five year old.

"So can you tell me about the murders that have been all over the papers?" she asked.

"Well, I'm really not supposed to say anything."

"I won't tell anyone. You have my word," she promised. Her voice was husky and incredibly sexy. Dean had to make himself stop thinking about it.

"Well, eight women have died. All of them had their throats ripped out in the last two days," Officer Roberts said in a conspiratorial tone.

"Where were they found?" Alex asked.

"Most of them in the area around the strip clubs on the edge of town. The Bunny Club, Stars and all of that. Two of the bodies were found out on the side of the highway that leads through Florence and Georgetown. We think the bodies were dragged there, but we don't know why or by whom. There wasn't any evidence left behind at any of the crime scenes."

_Not evidence you were looking for anyway, _Dean thought. He dipped his fries in the ketchup he had squirted onto his plate and took a bite. The food was reenergizing him and he was ready to go out and hunt this thing down. He didn't think he was going to need Sam this time, not with Alex around.

"So were all the victims strippers?"

"No. Two of them were. The others were either at the strip clubs with their boyfriends or just in the general area for whatever reason. The two found on the side of the road had been driving on the highway. Their cars were found in the middle of the highway, abandoned. Somebody did some pretty hefty damage to those vehicles," Officer Roberts said, obviously enjoying the attention.

"What kind of damage?"

"Well, the front ends were smashed up. Like the Incredible Hulk had slammed his fists into the middle of the cars. The driver side door was ripped off one of the vehicles and was found lying in the far lane on the other side of the road. Nobody at the station can make sense of that," he said.

"Where are the vehicles at now?" she asked innocently.

"Probably gone to the impound by now," he answered. "That would be my best educated guess."

"How far out onto the highway were the vehicles found?"

"Approximately four miles, give or take a few yards," he smiled easily. "Are you a reporter or something? You sure got a lot of questions."

Alex put on her most winning smile, the one that made men go weak in the knees back when she had actually used it, and eyed him appreciatively. "Of course not. I'm just a curious girl. And you make it all sound so interesting. Were there any witnesses?"

"One, I think. The boyfriend of the last victim, Emily Hargrove. I believe his name is Thomas Macy. He's still in the hospital. He got banged up pretty bad when his girlfriend was killed. I think they are going to send him to the local mental ward when he's released on account of his statement is completely crazy. If they don't then I think maybe they should," the cop drawled.

Dean marveled at the ease with which she drew forth information from this guy that he could be fired for giving out. They now had more than enough to go on. Dean suspected it was going to be an incredibly long night. With this new information it looked like they were going to be investigating the crime scenes for themselves and sneaking into an impound lot. In the morning, when the hospital opened for visiting hours, they would probably be taking a trip to see Thomas Macy. He wondered how Sam was faring with Sarah. Dean waited another ten minutes while Alex said her goodbyes, wrote down his phone number out of formality, and walked out of the restaurant. He waited another five minutes for the cop to leave before getting up and paying for his tab at the counter. When he walked outside Alex was leaning up against her Nova smoking a cigarette. There was no sign of the police officer. Dean assumed he had already left.

"That was smooth," he told her. "We got all the information we needed and then some."

She nodded but didn't acknowledge his compliment with words. He realized breaking through her formidable defenses was going to be a tough job. _That's okay, _he thought, _I like a challenge. And she is so hot. _He wanted her to trust him, maybe open up to him, for Sarah's sake. He couldn't stand to see the pain in the young girl's eyes. He knew the only way to make it better for Sarah was to melt the ice around Alex's heart. It wouldn't do her sister any good if Alex fell completely to the dark side. More likely Alex would become a danger to everyone around her. _If that ever happens,_ Dean swore to himself and to Sarah, who couldn't hear him; _I'll take her out myself. _

"Where to first?" Alex asked, allowing him to lead this time.

He looked at his watch. It wasn't late enough in the evening to go breaking into a police impound yet.

"We'll go to the strip clubs. See if we can turn anything up there. Maybe the police missed someone that saw something," he said.

Alex rolled her eyes and dropped her cigarette. He knew she thought he just wanted to go check out the strippers. She opened her door and climbed in, motioning for him to lead the way. They pulled out of the parking lot together and headed to the end of town, where the nightlife lived. Literally.

"I might have found something," Sam said.

Sarah jumped up from the bed and ran to peer over his shoulder. The screen showed a news report on a priest in Florence that had become well known in the region for successfully exorcising ten demons from ten different people across central Texas. He was considered an outcast by other members of the various churches in the area because of his radical beliefs on demons and other things that went bump in the night.

"Maybe he can tell us something," Dean ventured.

"How are we going to go see him?" Sarah wondered.

"Dean will let me use his car. It just mean he's going to be stuck riding around with your sister tomorrow," he answered.

"Oh, that should be interesting."

Sam smiled. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Dean's number. Sarah sat at the computer chair he vacated and continued reading about the outcasted priest.

"What's up?" Dean answered on the fourth ring.

"I might have found someone that could give us some insight into Alex," he told his brother.

"Really? Where at?"

"Florence. I'll need the car tomorrow," Sam said.

Dean paused on the other end of the phone. "Don't make me regret doing this, Sam."

Sam grinned. "I won't. Your car will be safe. I promise."

"It had better be or you won't find anywhere safe to hide from me. I'll kick your ass," Dean replied. "Alex pumped the cop for information. We're going to check out the crime scenes now and do a little digging. We'll be out later than we thought. Don't wait up. One of has to get some sleep."

"Sure. Make sure you let Alex know you're tagging along with her tomorrow," Sam replied.

"Oh great. This should be fun."

"How's it going with her anyway?"

"The girl is good I'll give her that much. She's a little frosty around the edges but who can resist my charm?" Dean laughed. "I've had worse partners. Besides, she's way hotter than you, bro."

Sam laughed. "All right then. You be careful out there."

"Will do."

Sam terminated the phone call and turned to Sarah.

"You hungry? I saw a McDonald's just down the street."

Dean pulled his car into the parking lot of the three different strip clubs that were pressed in together and got out making sure to lock all his doors. In the space next to his Alex did the same.

"Inside or out?" she asked.

"Let's check around the outside first," Dean answered.

They moved to the back of the three buildings and found that behind them was a stretch of undeveloped land. There were a few stands of trees, lots of bushes and knee high grass that went on for about a mile or so as far as Dean could tell. Immediately behind the buildings were backdoors into the strip clubs and large, city provided, blue metal trash cans. There were broken beer bottles and soda cans littering the pavement and plenty of cigarette butts to spare. Dean could make out the distant bass beat of music coming from inside the strip clubs. Alex walked a few feet away from him and paused. She seemed to be searching the air for something. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and walked idly around the trash cans. He had no idea what they were looking for.

"Over here," Alex said.

She walked fifteen feet to the right, where the pavement ended and the grass began, and crouched down. Dean walked over and stood behind her, peering curiously at the ground. Alex ran her pointer and middle finger together over a patch of the edge of the pavement and brought them to her nose. She dropped her hand and stared out across the grass. Cars drove past on the road next to the undeveloped plot of land, oblivious to the inner workings of the night.

"The first victim died here," she told him.

She sounded like she was reporting the weather. Dean was disturbed by her lack of emotion, how she could just state the fact that someone had died in the exact spot she was standing on without a trace of emotion in her voice. If she cared at all she sure the hell didn't show it. Then a new thought occurred to Dean. How the hell did she know the first victim died here?

"How do you know?" he demanded.

She sighed and stood up to face him. "I can smell her blood. The scent is still here and it matches the smell of her blood at the morgue."

Dean couldn't stop himself from making a "what the hell!" face. He stared at her as if she had just grown a third eyeball. He noticed that his reaction was causing her to shift from foot to foot in an almost uncomfortable gesture. He had to bite back a flood of sarcastic, and possibly mean, comments that sprang to the tip of his tongue. She could _smell _blood? Blood that had already dried up and been forgotten? Was she the offspring of a basset hound demon? Dean put the mental brakes on his train of thought and tried to refocus.

"It's the . . . ," she started and then stopped suddenly. Dean got the impression she was about to spill something personal or important and had decided against it. _Barriers are still up and running, Captain, _he thought sarcastically.

"Look, it's just something I can do. Don't over think it," she snapped. "You might hurt yourself."

She turned on her heel and walked into the high grass, obviously searching for anything the police might have missed. Dean followed her and began his own search in any area she wasn't in. It occurred to him that he might have found a way to break through her defenses. She had made it fairly obvious that when she was angry she was more vulnerable, which could account for why her demon blood was so quick to take charge. If he could make her angry enough to crack, and keep her from turning on him, he might be able to chip a hole in her walls. He had a feeling that if he cracked the dam the flood would come. He knew that it was risky and he might not be able to stop her from giving in to her heritage, but he also didn't know how the change occurred. He needed to talk to Sarah to find out.

"I'll be right back," he told her.

She waved her hand in his direction to imply she didn't really give a damn and he walked off to the side of the buildings. He felt bad leaving her alone out there but he had a feeling she could handle her own. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sam's number.

"Hello?"

"Let me talk to Sarah."

There was a pause and the sound of shuffling around and then Sarah's voice came onto the line.

"What is it Dean? Is Alex okay?" she asked.

"Alex is fine. I need to ask you a question and you have to be as thorough and honest with me as you can," he told her firmly.

"All right. What is it?"

"When Alex gives into the demon blood, what happens?"

Sarah hesitated before answering. "Nothing, really. Her eyes change, that's the only physical difference. She gets stronger and faster and all that stuff but you can't tell until she uses it."

"What about her personality? Can she control herself?" he asked.

"Yes and no. If you're asking does she turn into a homicidal killer with no control over herself the answer is no. She's very much able to control the change. It's more like she drifts farther away. If you think she's detached as a human being in general it's worse when she changes. She just . . .I don't know how to explain it, Dean. She's just different. But she won't hurt you even if she might want to," Sarah said. "Why are you asking me all this?"

"I think I may have come up with a way to make her break, but I needed to make sure I wasn't biting off more than I can chew."

"What's the point in making her break?"

"The point is if she breaks then she'll have to reveal emotion. If she feels emotions again, especially strong ones, then it might pull her away from the detachment and make her see things differently. She needs to _feel _in order to heal."

"Okay, but be careful. She won't hurt you but she's pretty damn scary when she changes. Or well, I don't know. I've never seen her change around another person. Just me and the things we fight. So be careful. I can't honestly tell you I know she won't hurt you so watch yourself," Sarah told him. "But she won't go on a rampage and kill people, I know that much."

Dean nodded, thanked her, and hung up the phone. He turned and walked slowly back to the field, wondering what to do next.

Alex surveyed the trampled grass in front of her and tried to stop the churn of thoughts swirling in her head. When Dean had asked how she had smelled the victim she had gotten embarrassed. _When was the last time I was embarrassed about anything? _She wondered. She thought it might have been when she tripped and fell flat on her face during a police station Christmas party. That was a very long time ago, practically a lifetime. The fact that she had felt even the smallest of emotions made her wonder. On top of that, when she had started to feel embarrassed she got angry about it. Angry at Dean for making her feel that way and angry at herself for even caring what he thought. The anger had sparked a tiny flame in her that might have ignited a firestorm if only she hadn't blown it out so quickly. The flame had felt good. The anger had felt good and right, as if she should have been angry a long time ago. She had grieved after Allison's death to be sure, for nearly six months, but she had never really _felt _for it. Alex thought maybe she had boxed the emotions up and shoved them so far down inside herself that they had gone below the radar of her consciousness. She wasn't even aware they were down there waiting to be let out like the demons in Pandora's Box. But she was aware there were there now. But she didn't want to open that box . . . . .it held emotions better left dead and buried. It held a piece of her that she didn't think she could ever get back. She wasn't the same person she had been at 19. The eager, ambitious cop who loved her job and loved helping people. The devoted and loving sister who cared for Allison and Sarah in all the ways a sister, and a mother, would have done. The bright and happy girl who looked forward to finding the right man, marrying, and having a family of her own one day. A man that she could tell the truth to, that would accept her and love her despite of her past. She had been so full of hope and dreams. Alex thought back hard and tried to remember that girl. The memory was fuzzy and incomplete. It was like trying to watch a DVD that had been badly scratched. Pieces were missing, pictures were screwed up, and she felt so far away from that time and place. She thought if she could just reach back through time and grab hands with her former self she might be able to pull that girl back inside herself. If she could just remember what it was like to _feel. _Alex stopped and bent down to examine the grass closer. She felt like she was seeing herself inside the blades of green, painted black in the dark, and was instead examining her soul.

Something pulled on her, tugged her backwards. An inner voice that called to her and told her she was better off not caring. She stared harder at the grass, trying to hold onto that moment of introspection, but it was soon lost under the tide of detachment. Distantly, somewhere deep inside herself, she knew that the demon blood had won again. Pandora's Box would stay buried where it belonged. Soon she had forgotten all about the close call with a moment of truth and it was a distant memory. Not important. She stood at the sound of soft footsteps moving through the grass. She turned to find Dean standing a few feet away.

"Find anything?" he asked.

"Nothing important. The grass here is trampled, as if something big came through, but there is no way to tell what it was."

She moved past him and back onto the pavement behind the clubs. She studied the field carefully and then turned back to him.

"We have two options. We follow the direction it went in the grass or we go inside and see if the police missed anyone that saw something," she told him.

He could tell she was mocking his earlier words and his motives.

"Look, if most of the women were found around here people inside are going to be talking. We might just hear something useful. We stay for an hour or so and then we leave. We can go from there," he said finally.

Alex shook her head. "I think it's a waste of time. You go inside and play detective and I'll follow the trail. I don't play well with others anyway."

"That trail isn't going to lead anywhere other than behind some more buildings eventually. We don't have to go inside but following the trail is a waste of time too." Dean led the way back to front of the buildings. "We can go out onto the highway, which might be a more likely place to find our killer. The land out there is undeveloped and runs into forest area and hillside on both sides of the highway. If our killer is hiding out like a deranged woodsman then that would probably be where he is. Or we can go break into the police impound."

Alex contemplated the decision for a minute. They could take Officer Robert's word for it that the killer was supernaturally strong. They didn't need to see the vehicles to know that. She doubted there would be anything inside the cars that would tell them anything they didn't already know.

"Let's go check out the highway," she decided.

Dean pulled the Impala off the shoulder and eased it into the tall grass bordering the Phantom Warrior Highway. He tried to hide it as much as possible from plain sight in the event a State Trooper with a curiosity streak passed by. He watched Alex swing her vehicle around in an illegal u-turn and park on the opposite side of the road much the same as he had done. He crossed the road to where she was easing out of the Nova and had to stop himself from staring at the graceful, self assured way she moved. She really was a small thing, one would even go so far as to say delicate, but that was all a deception. The girl could pack a harder punch than Buffy. She slipped her keys into her pocket and opened the hood to remove a few items. She stuck an extra cartridge of ammo into her other pocket and slid a six inch hunting knife into a hidden sheath in her boot. Dean nodded appreciatively. Here was a woman he could relate to. She double checked the gun at her back and replaced it once she was satisfied it was ready and within easy reach. She scanned the surrounding fields that eventually gave way to forest all around them and then lifted her gaze to the almost painfully bright full moon overhead. Her eyes, shining an eerie silver in the moonlight, finally came to rest on his.

"So we have no idea what we're looking for," he finally said. "Except something that's unusually strong and has really big teeth."

"And claws," she added without a hint of anything but complete seriousness.

"Oh yeah, my favorite part, the claws. Well, this should be fun. Let's go a-hunting."

He started off across the field with Alex keeping pace a few yards off to his right. He had no idea what they were looking for and felt a little silly for the impromptu moonlit nature hike. The forest and fields running along the highway stretched back for miles and ran along the road for even longer than that. They could search all night and into the next day and not be any closer to a clue than when they started. The only thing breaking the lack of civilization were the few farmhouses spread out over the area. He looked over his shoulder and realized the road was now long out of sight. He prayed his beloved car wouldn't get towed away or he'd be making with the fisticuffs with Alex for suggesting this. He realized they had reached the wood line and inside the trees was infinitely darker than out in the field. The night was still and broken only by the usual nighttime sounds; crickets played, owls hooted, invisible critters skittered through the grass at the sound of approaching footsteps. The moonlight did little to penetrate through the density of the trees foliage and Dean was tempted to pull out his flashlight. There was surprisingly little underbrush, making their trek a little easier to accomplish. They walked in silence for a long time until Dean was sure they were hopelessly lost and would never find their respective vehicles again. He thought maybe now would be the best time to try and break through to Alex but he also had to wonder if they would ever find his body should she go psycho killer on him.

"Talk," she snapped.

Dean was so startled he stopped walking and stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You want to say something. Say it. Stop playing games," she said.

She too had stopped walking and was now standing five feet in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked diminutive, delicate, and breakable physically but there was an aura that surrounded her. That aura was strong and gave off the subtle warning that it was all just a facade. Her black leather glowed slightly with the small amounts of moonlight filtering down through the branches overhead and her eyes had returned to their usual ice blue.

He hesitated, knowing now was the best time, and faltering for words. She stared him down, those blue eyes penetrating right into his soul as he searched for a way to save her.

"What happened?" he asked finally.

"Excuse me?"

"To you, your sister, your family. What happened?" he repeated.

"They died. It's really not a very long story," she said simply.

"How did you lose your twin?" he pushed.

"You already know," she replied evenly. "We're wasting time."

"I want to hear it from you," he said firmly, stopping her in her tracks. She turned around and pressed her lips together in an expression of agitation. _Good, _Dean thought.

"A demon killed her," she told him. "End of story."

"What demon?" he pressed.

"I don't know. Back off the subject," she warned.

She turned to go and he closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm. He felt her tense beneath his grip and realized that without the change the only strength she had was what she had built up herself. He could feel the power in her muscles and it was above average for a female but not stronger than him. She must have tapped into her demonic heritage in order to push him to the ground back at the restaurant. Sarah had been right, she could control it and with more ease than he had expected. He thought harder and wondered just how much control she really had. Was it possible she could only control parts of it? It was plausible that the demonic blood had more sway over her than she realized and with the years of practice she had with it she could tap into it for added strength or whatever else she needed. It was also plausible it swayed her emotionally more than she knew or had control over. She stared daggers up at him but he did not relinquish his grip.

"You blame yourself," he stated.

She tried to jerk away but he pulled her forward until they were only inches apart. Her eyes took on a dangerous look and Dean thought he saw a flicker of darkness creep into them. The ice blue now seemed to meld into a darker blue. He eased off on his grip, not wanting her to turn just yet.

"I blame the demon," she growled.

"You're only fooling yourself, Alex. You're not fooling me," he said.

She reversed his grip in the blink of an eye and Dean found himself up against a tree with his arm pulled up behind his back. He grunted as she pushed her body weight into her grip and his cheek pressed painfully against the rough bark.

"You are treading on _very _thin ice," she told him. "I hope you can swim."

"And you're a coward," he snapped. "You keep hiding behind your demonic heritage so you don't have to feel anything."

She wrenched his arm up farther until sharp spots of pain exploded in his shoulder and he had to stop himself from crying out. Any farther and she would break it.

"There's nothing to feel. I did my grieving," she said.

He shoved back from the tree, ignoring the strain it put on his shoulder and arm, and turned around. He reversed her grip on his wrist and took hers, spinning her around and pulling her up against him with his arm around her neck. He grabbed her left hand and pulled it across her stomach, locking it into place with his grip. He angled his body so that she wouldn't be able to get in a shot at his kidneys with her free arm.

"I don't think so," he told her, "I've lost people too and I still feel."

"Oh yeah, you're so big on showing emotion," she retorted.

He held firmly against her struggling and tightened the muscles around her neck, forcing her to concentrate a little less on breaking his grip and a little more on breathing. He knew any minute now she could tap into herself and break free with ease.

"Nobody said you had to cry during _Free Willy_," he replied.

"Do you bill by the hour?" she snapped.

"You blame yourself," he repeated. "You should have been able to save her and you couldn't."

She wrenched her arm from his grip and put both hand on the arm around her neck. She threw herself forward, effectively flipping him over her small frame. He landed on his back on the unforgiving ground. She stepped up and put the heel of her boot on his throat.

He looked up into eyes that had gone from ice blue to slate blue without warning. She was still controlling her change.

"I don't need to tell you my goddamn life story," she spat. "My family died, I'm out for blood, and right now you're in my way."

She applied pressure with her boot heel and glared down at him. He couldn't deny that change or no change there was murder in her eyes. He grabbed her boot and tried to take the pressure off. She was right on his windpipe and it was slowly being crushed. He managed to force it up enough to swallow oxygen and speak.

"I lost my mother and my father," he said. "I know how it feels."

"Do you?" she demanded. "I don't really care. I don't want to hear your sob story anymore than I want to share mine. We're here to do a job and that's it. Then we can all go on our merry little way and never see each other again."

He knew he was making headway. Her ire was rising and her emotions were going into overdrive. Soon the demonic part of her would rise up to take control and stop her from feeling human emotions if his theory was correct. If he could push her past her anger and into other emotions then maybe she would break. He knew all it would take was one breakdown, one emotion outside of anger, and she would win against herself. _But first things first,_ he thought.

He pushed with all his strength against her foot and used his other hand to grab the ankle she was standing on. He pulled and pushed simultaneously, knocking her off balance and onto the ground a few feet from him. He got to his feet and brushed himself off before walking over and flipping her onto her back before she could regain her footing. He straddled her waist, putting his body weight on top of hers and pinned her wrists to the ground above her head.

"As . . . .entertaining as all this is, I've had just about enough," he told her. He wasn't going to deny to himself that all the fighting and closeness of their proximity was kind of sexy but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her. "Are you done trying to kick my a?"

"Trying?" she echoed. "I could and I would, if there weren't more important matters to attend to. Like getting this over with so I can get the hell away from you."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

He let her up and glanced around at the surrounding trees. He knew he wasn't done pushing her yet but he wanted to give her enough time to retain her anger but lose any chance of going demonic. He waited a few minutes while she straightened her jacket and pulled the leaves out of her hair. He stretched out his arm and shoulder and was satisfied to hear it pop. He glanced at her eyes and was reassured to find they still glared at him but had returned to their original color. _Round two,_ he thought grimly. _Ding ding!_

"What about Sarah?" he asked.

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "What about Sarah?"

"How do you think this affects her?"

"I'm sure that's not any of your damn business," she replied.

"It must be since she came to us for help," he shot back.

She hesitated for a moment and her expression changed. A wave of emotions passed over her features so quickly that Dean almost thought it had been a trick of the light. When he blinked again her face was hard again, as though carved from stone, and there was no trace of anything but raw, unchecked anger. He decided to push harder. He had a gut feeling he was very close. He also knew he was having subconscious thoughts that were very hard to put aside with the heat between them. The heat was generated from anger, which was a form of passion in and of itself, and he was sure that the attraction on some level was mutual. He also knew she wanted to punch his face in more than kiss it right now.

"Do you love?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" she demanded.

"Love. You know, caring about another person, showing that you care. Love," he repeated.

"I don't have time for this," she said and turned on her heel.

"Because I don't think you do," he continued. "Love, I mean. You can't love and not show it. But then again, if you don't feel anything why go around and save all these people?"

She turned around and stared at him incredulously. He was pleased to see her eyes had not changed in the slightest. He started pacing back and forth, pretending to talk to himself.

"You obviously do care to risk your life to save others. And from what Sarah said you go to extreme lengths to protect her so you must love her in some way. And you get angry _really _easy which is a basic emotion that's an offshoot of passion and hatred. Those kind of go hand in hand don't you think? Love, hate, passion, they're all cousins."

"I don't give a shit about the people that get themselves into trouble by not knowing what's out there," she interrupted. He could tell from her expression and her tone of voice that she was lying. She wasn't doing a good job of hiding it and he thought maybe she wasn't trying to. "I love Sarah . . . . ."

She stopped suddenly as she realized that her voice had broken slightly. He hurried to push her over the emotional waterfall before she could regain her balance.

"You sure the hell don't show it," he accused. "I'm not big on touchy feely stuff and even I give my brother the occasional hug."

"I love Sarah!" she exclaimed with vehemence. "I would give my life for hers. I would never let what happened to . . .to . . . ."

She broke off again and this time Dean saw a clear expression of pain wash across her beautiful features. She swallowed hard visibly and he watched a single tear make its way down the curve of her cheek. He was on the blade of a double edged sword now. One wrong word, one wrong move, and she could go from pain to anger. If she went back to anger then he might never get her back to this point.

"What happened to Allison?" he supplied gently.

She looked around her as if she couldn't recognize her surroundings. She looked completely lost inside herself and Dean knew she was searching for something. He just wondered what that something was.

Alex fought like a drowning swimmer insider her own heart. She could feel the pull of a current that had always won out before trying to pull her under again and she knew deep inside herself that if she went under this time she would never come back to shore. How clever her little sister was. She had known this would happen. She knew that Alex was dying inside herself and she had known exactly what to do and who to send. It was the first time that Alex was really aware of the war inside herself between the different parts of her heritage. She was torn between a thousand different emotions and couldn't decide which way to turn. Distantly she saw Dean standing a few feet away, looking so sure of himself and uncertain at the same time. A million thoughts flew through her head at such a speed she had trouble catching them all. They were like salmon, brushing against her under the water, down in the murky depths were she couldn't see and feared to swim.

On a rational level she understood that to feel again, to allow herself emotion this once, would not hinder her ability to use her powers. On the contrary if she could learn to balance the human part with the demon part she would be able to use both. If she could remain human enough to keep the demonic blood from getting a hold of her than she could tap into its power at will without risk of losing herself in its tide. She was then forced to wonder how she was supposed to maintain both sides without losing herself to the darker side.

She looked at Dean again and wondered what he stood to gain from this. He was so handsome, standing there in the pale moonlight that fingered its way through the tree limbs overhead. She felt a whole new surge of emotions push there way to the fore of her mind and she was almost overwhelmed. She felt fire, passion, desire, and an urgent need for human contact.

Then the tidal wave of grief struck and she felt herself being pulled by the current of evil within her even more. She fought back, struggling to stay afloat and thought of Allison. Sweet, beautiful, compassionate Allison. Allison who would be devastated to see her today. Allison had always been able to balance herself with the evil within her and had never let it control her. Allison. She had failed her sister. She had failed their mother, and their father, and when she had finally gained control of their lives she had failed Allison as well. Would she fail Sarah too? Would Sarah fall to the darkness that her whole family had because Alex didn't possess the strength to save them?

She glanced at Dean again and felt the same pull of passion and desire. She took a step forward, then a step back and lost her focus on the world around her. She lost herself in a hurricane of emotions that swept away the pull of evil in their power and fury. She felt ill, like she was going to vomit or maybe pass out. She lost herself in pain, guilt, and all the memories that went with them.

Dean watched her and knew he couldn't imagine the war within her. He took a step toward her and saw that she was covered in sweat and her skin had gotten paler. There were tears coursing down her face that she didn't seem to be aware of and they were silent in their pain. He knew that he had accomplished his goal but now he wondered what to do next.

To his surprise she stepped toward him and then just as suddenly moved back. She looked torn between wanting to run into his arms and wanting to run away. Then her vision became unfocused again and he found himself moving toward her. She fell and he caught her as she sank to her knees and he with her. He knelt beside her, with her left shoulder against his chest and his right arm around her. He held her as the dam broke and the flood came. Her body jerked and spasmed, tears streaming down her face like rivers of silver in the moonlight. He wondered what would happen when this was over. He held her for a very long time until finally the sobbing stopped and the shivering ceased. She went still and quiet in his arms and he thought maybe she would punch him for pushing her to this point. She wiped her tears away on her sleeve and Dean was surprised that not a bit of her make up had smeared. She stood then and he did as well, stepping back to put some space between them. The fire raged brighter than ever and the passion was born not just of anger but of need and desire for the heat.

When she finally met his gaze her eyes were a brighter blue than he had ever seen. Her face was no longer carved of stone but was soft and gentle. He thought this was probably what her twin must have looked like all the time. It still had an edge to it, and she still had that special aura, but for the most part it was a face of a person who had come to grips with them self.

"I don't know if I should be thanking you or my meddlesome little sister," she began. "And we're not going to dwell on it. You did what she wanted you to do and you succeeded. Beyond that, the issue is over. We have a job to do."

He nodded and could hear the difference in her voice. There were traces of the old Alex there; the no bullshit, take no prisoners attitude but there was also a hint of kindness there too. A hint of gratitude. He smiled inwardly and knew she would most likely never get all mushy and thank him for what he had done but that was okay. They had crossed a barrier together tonight and the road ahead would be interesting, if somewhat unclear.

"Let's get to work," he said.

Sarah jumped when she heard her cell phone trilling in her sweater pocket. The walk back from McDonalds had been quiet and comfortable. There was only sparse traffic on the road and she could see the motel sign from where she stood. She had been wondering to herself how Dean was faring with her difficult sister and had been thinking about the losses Sam had suffered. She had been shocked to hear his story and how close it was to her own. She knew what it felt like to lose a mother, but she had no idea the pain of losing someone much more intimately close to you like Jessica had been to him. She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You're really smooth, you know that?" Alex's voice came back from the other end of the phone and Sarah heard a distinct difference in it. The words weren't harsh or cold like they usually were. Sarah looked up at Sam with an expression of confusion and hope. Sam stopped walking and turned to her.

"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked.

"Sending Dean to do your dirty work," her sister replied. "I have to admit it was a stroke of genius."

Sarah thought she could almost hear her sister smiling on the other end of the phone. She allowed herself to feel a little more hope and glanced up at Sam again. He responded by placing his hand on her shoulder and nodding for encouragement.

"I'm still not following . . .," she hesitated.

"You asked the brothers for help. You wanted them to get through to me because you knew I was losing out against myself. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong," Sarah told her.

"I know I'm not. Your plan worked, Sarah. I'm not going into specifics, I'll let Dean tell you the details if he wants to, but it worked."

"It did? So you're . . .you're . . .," she trailed off, not sure what to say.

"I'm not human, but I feel more human than I have in awhile. Don't expect a complete 180 on my personality. You know how I've always been and I'll continue to be that way."

"I just didn't want to lose you," Sarah began.

"You're not going to lose me now, thanks to your efforts. I can learn to balance both sides of myself. It'll be slow going and probably hard, but we'll figure it out together," her sister interrupted.

"Sam found a guy in Florence; we were going to go see him tomorrow. Maybe see if he could offer any extra help," Sarah informed her.

"If you want to go see him then go ahead. Be careful and tell Sam if anything happens to you I'll kill him," she said flatly. Sarah knew she meant it.

"We'd have to use Dean's car so you'd be stuck together again," Sarah said.

"That's fine. I've had worse company."

Sarah nodded then realized Alex couldn't see her. "Okay. Where are you?"

"In the middle of the woods out on the highway. Don't wait up for us."

"Okay. Be careful."

"Always."

Sarah disconnected and stood there staring at the phone. She couldn't believe it had worked. She didn't know what Dean had done but she was grateful. She would have to thank him when they got back.

Dean glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye as she slipped her phone back into her pocket and shoved an overhanging tree limb out of her way. She hadn't said anything more about what had happened a little over fifteen minutes ago. There was not a huge visible change in her demeanor; she still moved like a cat, gave off a vibe that would scare away most hardened criminals, and her face showed a complete focus on the work at hand. She stopped suddenly and fell into a crouch, inspecting the ground at her feet. He moved to stand behind her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A human footprint and it's not ours," she told him. "It's fairly recent. The ground here is a little softer so this one was made maybe an hour ago."

Dean scratched the back of his head and flicked a stray leaf off his shoulder. "Who comes out here this late?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say nobody with good intentions."

"You think our killer could be human?" he wondered.

"Maybe some of the time," she replied and got to her feet.

She spun around at the sound of a snapping twig and placed her hand on the gun at the small of her back. She realized her backside was so close to Dean that she could practically feel his body heat and took a conscious step forward. Behind her she heard a gun cock and glanced over her shoulder to see Dean holding his own weapon pointed at the ground.

"You shouldn't be here," a voice said from somewhere to Alex's right.

It was a male's and judging from the tone and pitch, he was probably in his early twenties. She cocked her head and walked a few feet to her right.

"You should really turn around and leave," the voice warned them.

"And you should really come out of hiding you chickenshit," Alex replied.

"Have it your way."

Motion exploded from behind her and Alex saw a huge shape come hurtling out from behind a stand of bushes. It came to a stop about ten feet away from Dean.

"Holy shit," Dean said.

The creature was a werewolf. It stood about seven feet tall, a full head taller than Dean. Alex had been right, his top canines were curved and the rest of his teeth were viciously sharp. His coat was coal black and his eyes glowed an eerie yellow. It reminded Alex of the werewolf that Hugh Jackman turned into in _Van Helsing_. The werewolf was built like a body builder. His upper torso was a mass of powerful muscles and his claws looked like he could flay a person alive. She reached for the gun at her back as the werewolf took a few bounding steps forward. He raised his arm and slammed it into Dean's gut, sending him flying into a tree trunk fifteen yards away.

Alex yanked her gun free and aimed at the werewolf's kneecap. The gun wasn't loaded with silver bullets so it wouldn't kill it but it would sure hurt a lot. She fired off a shot and the werewolf let out a bloodcurdling howl that temporarily stunned Alex. It snarled and rushed her, wrenching the gun from her grasp and lifting her from her feet by her throat. It tossed her like a rag doll in the same direction it had thrown Dean and she landed unceremoniously on top of him. Dean groaned as she rolled off him and into a crouch. Behind the werewolf a young man in a red robe appeared. He had the good looks of a college frat boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a smug grin painted on his face.

"I told you to leave," he said with an air of superiority. "Now you and your boyfriend will die."

Alex shook Dean's shoulder and was relieved when he opened his eyes and tried to get up. She didn't wait for him to regain his senses. She stood up and faced the slavering werewolf and college cult boy down.

"A: he's not my boyfriend and B: you just made a huge mistake," she snapped.

She reached down inside herself and grasped for the stream of evil that would enable her change.

"What are you going to do sweetheart? Scream us to death?" he mocked.

Dean stood up next to her and moved to go forward after his gun but Alex threw out her arm against his chest. It was like hitting a metal bar. She looked up from the ground and Dean saw that her eyes had turned completely black. The irises had been swallowed whole by the inky darkness and there was no trace left of the white of her eyes.

"Hardly," she replied, removing her jacket and tossing it to the ground. "Dean, get your gun."

She rushed the werewolf at a speed that shocked Dean and the two collided in a tangle of limbs. Dean snatched his gun up from the ground and realized the robed college boy was off through the woods. He chased after him and launched himself into the air, tackling the punk to the ground. He pulled him up and dragged him back to where Alex was with the gun shoved into his side and his arm wrenched painfully behind his back.

The werewolf hit Alex in the gut as he had done to Dean and she flew backwards into a tree trunk. Her back collided with the unmoving object and instead of falling flat on her face she fell into a predatory crouch. She flew at the werewolf with a rapid fire series of sidekicks and punches that penetrated his defenses and sent him rocking back on his heels.

"Run away!" the man in the red robe screamed.

"Shut up!" Dean yelled and pistol whipped him in the back of the head.

The werewolf turned on his heel and disappeared into the sparse underbrush at the college boy's words. Alex looked torn between wanting to chase after it and staying to help Dean. Dean shook his head at her.

"We've got frat boy here. I think he can answer our questions," he told her.

She picked her jacket up off the ground along with her gun and replaced them both. When she met his eyes again they were normal. He sighed in relief mentally and reminded himself to never piss this girl off again.

"A werewolf huh? One of your buddies?" she asked.

The blonde headed kid just stared at the ground sullenly. She sighed and pulled her gun back out. She took her time checking the weapon and cocking it slowly. She grabbed his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her.

"What's your name?" she demanded.

"Trevor."

"Well, Trevor, I don't have a whole lot of patience right now. So you might want to think about answering my questions," she warned.

"I'm not answering anything," he retorted. "You're not going to kill me."

She met Dean's gaze and he nodded for her to continue. "I don't have to kill you. There are lots of ways to inflict pain that won't kill you."

She pointed the gun at his foot and smiled at him.

"The werewolf, Trevor. Is that one of your buddies?" Dean demanded.

"Yes," Trevor replied.

"You in a fraternity?" Dean pressed.

"No. We're just all friends," Trevor answered.

"What college?" Alex asked.

"CTC. Central Texas College."

"What's going on with the dead girls, Trevor?" Dean asked.

"I can't tell you. They'll kill me! It's not just about the girls, it's bigger than that."

"You better start talking or I'm going to start shooting," Alex warned.

"The girls, they were just women that wouldn't give Mark the time of day. That's just a personal vendetta. It has nothing to do with us," Trevor explained.

"Mark? That's the werewolf?"

"Yes. Mark Jones. He's worse than any of us."

"Is this a cult?" Alex pushed.

"Yes."

"What do you do?" Dean asked.

"We—," Trevor's response was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. His body jerked and Alex spun around, bringing her weapon to bear. She saw a flash of red disappear through the trees and turned to find that Trevor was dead. His compatriots had shot him through the heart to silence him.

"Dammit!" Dean snapped, dropping the body to the ground.

Alex replaced her weapon after a few minutes and turned to stare down at Trevor's body. She felt a wave of pity and this time didn't brush the emotion aside. She held it close and let it fill her for a moment then turned her attention back to the problem at hand.

"Well, that sucks," she finally stated.

"Yeah. We can turn in an anonymous tip to the cops when we get back," Dean sighed. "We've got enough to work off now, so let's get back and get some sleep."

Alex shrugged and they began their walk back to civilization.

It was three in the morning when Dean eased the door to his motel room open and peered in to find Sam surfing the net on the laptop at the table and Sarah sleeping soundly in his bed. He moved quietly into the room with Alex behind him and shut the door. Sam looked up from the laptop and rose to his feet when he saw it was them.

"You must be Alex," he said. "I'm Sam."

Alex nodded at him in recognition and pointed to her sister. "How long has she been out?"

"About two hours."

Alex sat on the edge of Sam's bed with a sigh and slid her jacket off her shoulders revealing a shallow cut across her left shoulder. Dean looked at it in concern and moved to examine it but she shrugged him off.

"It'll take care of itself," she told him. "I think we should bring your brother up to date."

Dean looked at Sam in confusion, wondering the what the hell she meant by "it'll take care of itself" when the two brothers saw the skin close around the wound all on its own until the shallow laceration had vanished from sight, leaving only a small stain of blood behind.

"Perk of the demon blood," she explained. "Wounds that aren't too serious heal on their own and ones that are serious heal faster than normal."

Dean nodded and looked at his brother. "We know the attacks are being committed by a pissed off werewolf with a vengeance vendetta. After that it gets a little more complicated."

"The werewolf is a college kid named Mark Jones. We ran into a buddy of his in the woods and managed to get some information out of him. Then he was shot by his other buddies so that was the end of that," Alex continued.

Sam raised his eyebrows and looked back and forth between them. "This sounds like a long story. Let's start from the beginning."

Dean and Alex took turns retelling the whole night's events and when they were finished Sam sat down with a low whistle. He shook his head in disbelief and leaned back in the wooden chair at the table.

"So we have a werewolf that's running around killing women that supposedly wronged him in some way and a cult of college kids with unknown intentions," he summarized.

"Basically. The question remains who is the cult serving and for what reason? Trevor said it was bigger than we thought and he didn't exactly get to finish his explanation," Dean supplied.

"Do you think this could be tied to what Dad said on the phone?" Sam asked. "He said the thing with the demon that killed Mom and Jess was bigger than we thought and we had to be careful."

Alex raised an eyebrow and sat back on her elbows. She looked at Dean until he realized she was waiting for his story to come out. He spun the other chair at the table around backwards and straddled it casually before spilling their story. When he was finished Alex nodded.

"They could be connected. This could also be connected to the cult that killed my father," she said.

"If this is all part of the same thing then this is huge and we've stumbled into something really serious," Dean added. "We may be getting in over our heads here."

"You want to back down?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No way. I'm just putting out the warning that if this is as big as it sounds, we don't know what we're up against. Dad wasn't exactly big on the details."

"So what's our next move?" Sam wondered.

"The plan stays the same. You and Sarah go talk to that priest in the morning. Alex and I will go see the kid in the hospital and maybe track down Mark Jones. See if we can't have a friendly little chat."

"What if the priest knows a way to take the demon blood out of you?" Sam wondered, looking directly at Alex.

"I haven't really ever thought about it."

"If he does?" Sam pressed.

"Considering the current circumstances it might be a risky move to remove it now. I wouldn't have any of the advantages I possess now. Being completely human could make me more a liability than any kind of help," she said.

"Sam and I manage to survive without superhuman abilities," Dean reminded her. "They aren't necessary for this kind of work."

"Just really helpful. If we're going up against werewolves and demons the demon blood could come in handy. Like it did tonight," she reminded him.

"Or it could be used against you, and consequently, us," Sam added. "You can't forget that it's ultimately evil and evil could use that against you. The power inside you can destroy you, Alex."

"I know that. If it wasn't for your intervention," she looked directly at Dean, then allowed her gaze to travel to Sam and her sister, "it very well could have done so already."

Dean thought that was as close to an admission of gratitude as she would ever come. He sighed and ran his hands through his short hair. This was complicated. Alex was right on one level. If the priest in Florence could free her from the evil within then that could ultimately save her soul, but at the moment it could make her a liability. They also had no proof that any of this was interconnected and he could only assume they would find out the truth tomorrow. They had no idea what they were up against, other than a werewolf, and their AWOL father hadn't given them specifics. Which right now seemed to be hurting them more than helping them.

"Okay, well, we'll have to wait for more answers tomorrow. Right now we should all try and get some sleep," Dean said.

Alex got off the bed and replaced her jacket. She moved over to her sister and picked the sixteen year old up with practiced ease. Dean opened the door for her and couldn't stop himself from admiring her figure one last time before she stepped out and disappeared to her room.

"So, how'd it go?" Sam asked.

"Good. She's freakin hot, bro," Dean admitted.

Sam smiled and collapsed onto his bed. He thought maybe Dean was developing a crush but he wasn't going to bring it up to his anti-emotional older brother. If Dean fell for this girl it would be in his own time and on his own terms. Sam smiled to himself and shut off the lamp, falling into a deep sleep in a matter of minutes.

When Alex awoke the next morning her sister was already gone. She climbed out of bed and spotted the note sitting on the dresser. She picked it up and read it while she unzipped her duffel bag. _Alex- I didn't want to wake you. Sam and I are going to Florence, I'll call you when we get there. Be careful today. I love you. –Sarah_ She replaced the note on the dresser and smiled to herself.

She really did feel better, a little like her old self, and she hadn't felt that way in a long time. She picked up her change of clothes and her toiletries and headed to the shower. She considered the possibility of having the demon blood removed while the hot water pounded against her back. If this priest could do it then she would hardly be able to pass up the opportunity but she didn't know how to exist without her darker half. She had always relied on her ability to fight back against the darkness with an even hand and didn't know if she could do it any other way. Dean was right, it was possible and he and Sam were living proof of that. She didn't like the way the idea made her feel. With the ability to change came a certain feeling of control and power. Without it she couldn't help but think she would be a little less useful, more vulnerable, and didn't want to imagine being put in a situation where she was helpless. It had happened before to be sure, she was strong but she wasn't invincible. There had been plenty of times when she got herself into a sticky situation that even the demon blood couldn't get her out of. On those occasions she had been fortunate enough that her little sister had come to the rescue. She hated the feeling of being helpless and having a situation out of her control but she knew that it happened to everyone from time to time. Logic told her that she couldn't let pride stand in the way of saving herself for good this time. Part of her prayed fervently that this priest would be able to provide her with a way out. She still didn't know if she would let him take it away if he could and was sure she wouldn't know until it happened.

She shut off the shower and toweled off, dressing in dark hip-hugging blue jeans, her favorite boots, and a chocolate brown long sleeve suede top with a V-cut neck and a button up front. The shirt showed her midriff and fit snugly against her skin. She secured a brown belt around her hips that had a silver pentagram for the buckle and replaced her silver cross necklace around her neck. She took a few more minutes applying her make up and tossing her hair into a ponytail. She took pride in her appearance but didn't spend more than thirty minutes in front of the mirror on any given day. She tried to brush back the bangs that framed her face on both sides, hanging down to just above her chin, but because she had her hair layered they weren't in the mood to cooperate. She sighed and quit messing with them.

She left the dirty clothes and toiletries in the bathroom to clean up at a later time and opened the door. No sooner had she stepped out then something caused her stomach to clench in alarm. She whirled around and was rewarded with a vicious backhand to the face. She fell to the floor and grunted in pain when a boot met her ribcage with ferocious force. _That's gonna leave a mark, _she thought. The force of the blow lifted her off the floor for a second and sent her crashing into the dresser near the foot of the beds. She was too dazed to call on her demonic blood and she tried to block the next kick but it came to fast. She was left on the floor coughing violently and was shocked to see blood spatter onto the carpet from her mouth. The attacker had done internal damage. A hand grabbed her by the throat and hauled her up from the carpet.

She found herself face to face with a man about Dean's size. He had short spiky black hair and enraged dark blue eyes. He would have been handsome if his face wasn't marred by hatred. She knew this had to be the werewolf she had beaten down last night. Even in human form he was unusually strong and she wouldn't be able to fight him without using her demonic blood. She was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on changing as her windpipe was steadily being crushed. He rushed forward and her body was thrown into a wall with enough force to crack the plaster but he didn't relinquish his hold.

"You should have stayed out of my way," he snarled.

He brought his free hand up and began punching her with fury anywhere he could manage to land his fist. When the attack was over the internal damage in her abdomen had been most likely doubled and a cut decorated the left side of her cheek.

Alex focused as hard as she could and plunged down inside herself even as her conscious mind was slipping away. She found the shadow that lived within her and grasped it, pulling it up with her, and surrounding her inner being with it. She donned it like a cloak and felt the changes taking hold.

She brought her foot up and shoved it into his gut with her full, unchecked strength. His grip was broken and he flew onto Sarah's bed and then tumbled off it and onto the floor. She fell to the carpet and sucked in oxygen even as she got unsteadily to her feet. She had been beaten within an inch of her life and even her demonic heritage couldn't take that away. She could still feel the pain from his blows and her throat was swollen from nearly being crushed. She was lightheaded and found it hard to focus when the room kept spinning and the floor kept trying to swallow her. As much as she hated to admit it she was in desperate need of help or this werewolf might very well win this fight.

Mark was on his feet again and he came toward her with a sidekick that she blocked with her forearms. She went purely on the defensive then, backing herself toward the motel room door in an effort to escape. She blocked the majority of the blows that he tried to land and managed to get in a few of her own. She reached behind her and unlocked the door before he grabbed her and tossed her backwards away from escape. She crashed to the ground and found that her strength was ebbing away. She tried to lift the side of her face from the carpet and when she did her vision swam. She was relieved to hear a sharp knock at her door. Mark fell on top of her and pressed his hand over her mouth. She wondered what he hoped to accomplish by this. If it was Dean then he had heard all the commotion and if it was the motel owner he was just gonna be pissed about the damage to the room.

"Alex?" Dean's voice called through the door.

As much as she hated having to be rescued Alex couldn't stop the wave of relief from washing through her. She struggled against Mark's hand but found herself at a serious disadvantage with him pinning her down from above while she was on her stomach. She called upon her last vestiges of strength and shoved off the floor with her arms, forcing him to fall off her back while she stumbled to her feet.

"Alex!" Dean called, a little more loudly this time.

"Dean—," her words were cut off by the backhand Mark gave her.

She crashed into the small table and it snapped beneath the force. She fell to the floor amid a shower of broken wood that cut into her skin in various places. She felt blood spill out from her nose and run down onto her lips. She looked at the door as it swung open with enough force to shake the walls. Dean stared in shock at the scene before him. Mark rushed him before he could regain his senses and knocked him aside, making a fast retreat out the now open door. Alex wondered why he didn't stay to kill them both. She was hardly any good for a fight and if she couldn't stand up to him in demon form then Dean had no chance of hell winning against him without a weapon. _We are officially screwed. _

Dean rushed to her side and grabbed her arm, helping her to her feet. When her legs gave out from under her he swept his arm under them and lifted her into his arms. She could hear his heart beating and liked that it was steady and strong.

"Sorry I didn't get here sooner," he told her.

"Better late than never, I guess," she replied.

"How did he . . . .?" Dean started.

"I was in the shower and I guess he snuck in. He hit me before I could hit back."

"While you were in the shower?" Dean asked skeptically.

"No, after I got out of the bathroom. I'm fully dressed you idiot. How am I supposed to take a shower fully dressed?"

Dean shrugged and set her down gently on the bed. He watched as the shallow wounds all over her body sewed themselves shut and the bruises began fading to a barely noticeable light purplish pink shade.

"That's a cool trick," he admitted.

She stood slowly and with obvious pain and went into the bathroom to wipe the remaining blood off. He noticed that she was clutching her stomach in an unconscious manner. He went to her and turned her around to face him. She stood still and slightly rigid as his hands worked to unbutton the lower three buttons on her top. He had to stop himself from unbuttoning the rest and putting her on the bed. He separated the pieces of the shirt and found that her ribcage was one large bruise that had faded in its coloring. He could tell that the damage had been severe. He touched it gently with his fingertips and hurried to back away. The tension was too much; the heat and the fire were like embers waiting to ignite. The desire was mutual and he knew that but he hadn't been able to sort out his feelings as of yet. Alex meant more to him than a one night stand, he knew that much. He knew that if they gave in to the fire there would be no turning back.

In the back of his mind he worried about the demon that had killed his mother and Jessica. It seemed to like to target the women in the Winchester men's lives. It seemed to want to cause them emotional pain and tear away any chance of love they may find. He also noted that each time the respective male member of the Winchester family had been present to witness their lover's demise and Dean thought that was significant also. Dean had been in love once before, with a young African American woman by the name of Cassie. That relationship had not ended well and the last time he had seen her she had made it clear that it was over. How had Cassie survived unscathed? If the demon targeted the women that the Winchester men loved then how did Cassie survive? He was able to curb his desire for Alex and stamp down any emotions having her around incited, but he couldn't deny them forever. He backed further away, desperately needing to put an ocean between them and not finding one available.

Alex buttoned her shirt back up with trembling hands, making it fairly obvious she was wrestling with the same emotions. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest and moved closer to the door.

"You good to go out and finish this?" he asked.

"I'm good. Let's get this over with," she replied.

Dean was relieved to leave the apartment and climb into the relative safety of her car. He knew they wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and the more he thought about falling for her, the more he feared for her life.

Alex swung the car into the parking lot of the hospital and tried to put the mental brakes on her train of thoughts. She knew that Dean had wanted her back in the motel room; she could feel the heat between them as though it were a tangible thing. She wanted him too, in a desperate way. She wanted to embrace the fire and let it swallow her whole as the freezing cold had done to her for so long. She had to stop herself from leaning across the front seat and pulling him into a passionate kiss. His beautiful hazel eyes had kept glancing at her the whole way over to the hospital and each time it made her breath catch in her throat. She had never felt this way over any other man, never desired a member of the opposite sex with such a yearning. She consciously tapped into part of the evil floating inside her to stamp out the flames that were rising in her body. She called upon the detachment that had nearly destroyed her just enough to wipe away some of her more intense emotions. Alex was immensely relieved when Dean slid out of the Nova and slammed the door shut. She took a moment to clear her jumbled thoughts and followed suit. Her stomach still produced sharp pains from the attack earlier that morning and she could almost feel her body working overtime to heal the internal damage done to her abdomen.

The parking lot was full of cars but lacking people at this early hour of the morning. They walked quickly in the brisk morning air to the entrance of the hospital without saying a word to each other. Alex felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as they passed a black van and she instantly knew what was coming.

"Dean!" she warned but the warning came too late.

The side van door exploded open and four guys in red robes sprang out, seizing Dean by the arms. The other two came for Alex and she responded by planting a devastating snap kick to the side of one's neck and a karate chop to the other's neck. The one whose neck she hit went stumbling backward gasping for oxygen and she took the advantage to go on the offensive and hit him with an axe kick that sent him sprawling to the pavement. She leaned over and grabbed his head of brown hair, slamming her fist into his face. He went limp beneath her and she was toppled over by the second attacker jumping on her exposed back. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Dean in a similar fight and was glad to see him winning. He hit one of his attackers with a side kick while pummeling the second in the face with a vicious uppercut. A small piece of plastic fell out of her attacker's ear and landed a few centimeters from her head. She reached over and snatched it up before planting both feet in his abdomen and launching him into the van. She put the earpiece to her ear and heard a male voice say, "Keep them busy. I'm almost there!" She was on her feet in an instant and caught the man in the face with the back of her hand when he tried to rush her from behind. As he stumbled backward clutching his broken nose she gave him a solid back kick to the groin and whirled, bringing her leg around to connect with the side of his head. He went down hard and stayed there.

"Dean! They're after the witness!" she yelled.

Dean spared a moment from his own fight to nod sharply in her direction and she took off at a run fueled by demonic speed. Her boot heels slapped sharply against the pavement as she rushed through the hospital doors and pushed past several surprised nurses.

"Miss! Miss slow down!" One of them hollered after her. She paid them no heed and tore through the hallways at a speed that shocked even her. It was as if time slowed down and each pounding footstep met with the crash of her own heartbeat. It wasn't that the kid was a witness with possibly valuable information; it was that he was innocent. They were going to snuff out his life like it meant nothing simply because he was a threat. She wasn't going to allow that to happen. She poured on the speed and felt even more like she was running through a wall of water. She reached the nurses deck and grabbed the poor woman who was coming around the side of the desk to assist an elderly woman by the shoulders in a grip that must have seemed like steel. The woman's chocolate brown eyes flew open wide and she opened her mouth in a surprised gasp.

"Where is Thomas Macy?" she demanded.

"Ma'am let go of me before I call security!" the woman cried.

"Where is he!" she yelled and allowed a hint of the darkness within to creep into her penetrating gaze.

"Room 136," the woman replied, visibly shaken.

Alex released her and took off again, counting the room numbers as she passed. Behind her she heard the nurse calling for security. She saw room number 136 up ahead and crashed through the door just as a man with short blonde hair and dark eyes was preparing to stick a needle into Thomas Macy's IV. Thomas Macy awoke with a start at the sound of her entrance and looked from her to the man in surprise and fear.

"Hey!" Alex yelled and leapt forward to tackle the man with the needle.

They crashed into the wall, knocking over the stand holding the IV bags as they went down. Alex blocked the man's arm as he brought the needle up to stab her in the neck and decked him in the face as hard as she could in human form. The needle dropped from his grasp, rolling to a stop near her right foot. She kicked the needle as she struggled with the man beneath her and sent it spinning into the far wall. The man punched her in the jaw hard enough to make her ears ring and threw her off him. She flew backwards and landed on the floor at the end of the bed, smashing her head painfully into the hard tile floor. The man stood and looked wildly between her and Thomas before deciding that getting caught by the security guards wasn't the best thing. He dashed through the doorway as Alex climbed to her feet and stumbled a few steps into the hallway after him. Shocked nurses and patients dove out of his way as the hospital security guards appeared down the same corridor he was heading.

"Stop that man!" she screamed. "He tried to kill this man!"

She turned and looked at the fearful Thomas Macy. She picked up the syringe off the floor and inspected it. She couldn't discern the contents by just looking at it but she knew whatever it contained was lethal.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"You saved my life, didn't you? Why would that man want to kill me?" Thomas gasped.

"Yes I did and I don't know," she answered. She wasn't about to tell him the man had been part of a crazed cult intent on protecting its secrecy.

A nurse and a security guard came rushing into the room and Alex realized it was the same nurse she had grabbed earlier.

"That's her!" the woman cried. The security guard moved as if to grab her but Thomas stopped him.

"No wait! This woman saved my life," he told them.

The security guard backed off and she spent the next thirty minutes explaining what had happened and leaving out as much as possible. She wanted the story to make sense but she didn't want the police going after the cult. Dean entered the room about ten minutes after the incident had occurred and filled in his half of the story. An hour later they were allowed in to see Thomas and the nurse nodded politely at them as she closed the door to the room and left them to their privacy.

"I can't thank you enough," Thomas began. "I owe you my life."

"No big deal," Alex brushed off the comment. "We want to know what happened the night your girlfriend was killed."

Thomas sucked in his breath and blinked back the tears that sprang to his eyes. Dean leaned against the wall at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He studied Thomas Macy intently waiting for his story.

"We were on our way to home to Florence that night. We had been in town visiting Elise's parents. We were gonna get married," he said.

His voice was thick with emotion and unshed tears. Alex felt her heart knock sharply against her chest and embraced the wave of sympathy that washed through her. She realized now that the key to balancing herself against the evil inherent within her was to allow herself to feel human emotions at every opportunity and not let the demonic blood wash them away in its black tide. She could call on the blood at will but had to keep it from consuming her again by remaining human. She had to feel all the time and never allow herself to stop embracing the emotions that made one human. Death should be painful for those left behind, love should lift one's soul to the heavens, happiness should be expressed in spades, and sadness should be released with tears. She knew this know and having this knowledge gave her a fighting chance against the evil swimming through her veins.

"We went to tell her folks the news and after dinner was over we started the drive back home. We . . .we never made it. Something ran into the middle of the road and I swerved to avoid it. It trashed the front of our car with its bare hands and jerked my door off its hinges. I don't remember much. Just being yanked out of the car and thrown across the highway. My head hit the cement really hard and before I passed out I heard Elise start screaming. When I woke up in the hospital they told me she had been killed," he continued and now the tears spilled freely down his cheeks.

"I know it's painful Thomas but you have to think. Do you remember anything else?" Dean asked suddenly.

Thomas leaned back against his pillows and buried his face in his hands. After several moments of silence he uncovered his eyes and looked at them. The pain in his eyes was so hard to bear that Alex had to look away.

"I think I remember seeing men standing on the side of the road right before I got yanked from the car. And something else . . . .something tall and looked like it had black skin. But it was dark out so it could have been my imagination. The thing that attacked us, it was big and hairy. It looked like one of those werewolves from the horror movies," he said slowly. He stopped and flushed red. "You must think I'm crazy. Everyone else does."

"No Thomas. We don't think you're crazy. We're here to stop the thing that killed your fiancée. I promise you Elise's death will not go unpunished," Dean swore with passion.

Alex nodded to show she agreed with Dean completely. Thomas managed a wan half smile and lay back against his pillows. There were dark circles under his brown eyes and Alex imagined he had many sleepless nights. She knew how he felt.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.

Dean patted the young man's shoulder in an expression of sympathy before the twosome exited the room quietly. Thomas was already sound asleep by all appearances when they looked back through the glass window. The nurses nodded to them as they left and their walk was silent until they had reached the Nova.

"A black skinned being? Something else isn't quite fitting into place here," Dean began.

"Werewolves don't drink blood and the victims were all drained," Alex finished.

"There has to be something else involved that we're missing."

"Could be a demon. Maybe this cult is worshipping a demon and they're giving it the blood of the girls for whatever reason," Alex suggested.

Dean shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows. "It doesn't make sense that way either. Trevor said that the dead girls were a personal vendetta of Mark's. He said the cult didn't have anything to do with that. Remember?"

"I remember. But if what Thomas saw was real then it looks like the cult is more involved than Trevor may have been aware of. Maybe it's just an inner circle of people that go on these little outings," she said. "It wouldn't be prudent for the higher ups to tell the underlings everything."

Dean nodded thoughtfully then shrugged. "That's one theory. Unfortunately it seems to be the only one we have. Let's go get breakfast and figure out our next move."

Sam stepped out of the Impala and stared at the small white chapel in front of him. The building had seen better days, the white paint was cracked and peeling, in bad need of a new coat. The windows were stained glass pictures of holy scenes from the bible and they too were in need of replacement. The glass was faded from the sun and weather. Sarah stepped up beside him and tightened her beige sweater around her middle in an attempt to ward off the mild chill in the air. She brushed a stray lock of red hair from her face and bit her lower lip. Sam reached down and took the young girl's hand, leading her up the stone steps and to the doors of the church. She pulled her hand from his grasp before he could open the wooden doors and turned to stare out over the well manicured lawn.

"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly.

"I'm just nervous I guess. What if this guy can't help?"

"We won't know until we ask."

"I know. I'm just not sure I can handle another disappointment."

Sam nodded and took her hand again. "You're not alone anymore, Sarah. We'll do this together."

She smiled gratefully and let him lead her through the doors and into the small church. The inner sanctuary was quiet and pleasant. Sam was immediately overcome with a feeling of comfort and peace. He looked up to the front of the room where, beyond the rows of wooden pews, was the image of the crucified Son of Heaven that one expected to find in most churches. The eyes of this Jesus seemed caught in a cross of acceptance and ultimate sadness. They were facing heavenward as if crying out for deliverance from the pain he was suffering for the sins of humanity. Sam felt Sarah's hand tighten on his own as she too stared at the image before them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a man's voice said from behind them.

Sarah jumped at the intrusion and turn to face the speaker. He was an older man with kind green eyes and light brown hair sporting streaks of gray in areas. He looked to be in his early fifties and had an athletic build as though he spent his free time in the gym. He wore the black and white robes of a Catholic priest and carried himself with a quiet authority. Sarah's grip on Sam's hand tightened as her nerves took over again. Sam responded by giving her hand a reassuring squeeze then stepped forward to offer the priest his hand.

"I'm Sam Winchester, this is Sarah Delaney," he said.

The priest shook his hand and smiled. "Father O'Brien. Is there something in particular I can help you with?"

"Uh, actually, we need to talk to you," Sarah said hesitantly.

Father O'Brien nodded and motioned them to the back of the church where a small office was situated. He led them inside and shut the door, taking a seat behind the oak desk cluttered with assorted papers and books. Sarah reluctantly released her companion's hand and sat in a chair on the other side of the desk that was upholstered in maroon leather. She fidgeted for a few minutes before clearing her throat.

"We read that you're kind of an expert on demons," she began. "And I kind of have a demon-related problem."

She looked at Sam for support and he nodded encouragingly. The priest sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together in front of him. His eyes were open and compassionate and Sarah lost some of her hesitancy in them.

"What kind of problem?" the priest asked slowly.

"My sister," Sarah said flatly.

"She is possessed?"

"Uh, not exactly."

Sarah retold the whole story of their family history to the priest and wondered if he would laugh her out of his office when she was done. She held her breath in fear of his response while her mind whirled with a hundred different questions and scenarios. Father O'Brien sat in contemplative silence for several agonizingly long moments before responding.

"I will be the first to admit this is new to me," he said. "I will tell you I believe your story in full and I'm sure there is something that can be done but only if your sister is willing. I will need some time to figure out our options."

Sarah nodded and exhaled in relief. "How long will you need?"

Father O'Brien considered for a moment. "Come back at eight. I should have something for you by then."

Sam stood up and thanked the man again before exiting the office with Sarah on his heels. Sarah's mind whirled as she climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala. She hardly dared to hope that this man would be able to help after so many had failed. Yet the more prevalent part of her being held onto that hope fiercely.

"Who's in charge!" Alex growled, slamming the poor college boy into the stone wall again. His face was going to be facing irreparable damage if he didn't fess up soon. It was one of the kids that had attacked them in the parking lot of the hospital. Apparently they had all gotten away, including the would-be murderer.

She and Dean had eaten breakfast at a local diner and thought through their very limited list of options. They had come to the conclusion that they needed to find the higher-ups in this cult to get answers or else track down the elusive and highly dangerous Mark Jones. So they had driven to the CTC campus and split up, hoping to run into a familiar face they could beat the answers out of. Alex hadn't been searching more than twenty minutes when she had run straight into her attacker from earlier in the morning. She had discreetly but rough handedly led him to more private area and was no proceeding to wed his face with the wall.

"Let me go you crazy bitch!" he cried.

"Not the answer I was looking for," she replied and spun him around. She placed her fist squarely in his gut and he doubled over in pain.

"I could do this all day," she informed him cheerfully. She punched him again for good measure and threw him back up against the stone wall. "Who is in charge of your psycho cult?"

"I can't tell you! They'll kill me!" he whimpered.

"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you," she shot back.

Alex gave him a vicious back hand to emphasize her point. The kid was crying now and the bruises from her beating were beginning to sprout across his fair skin. She almost pitied him but knew it was necessary to save lives.

"If I tell you you're gonna let me go?"

"Girl Scout honor," she replied sweetly.

"There are two of them. Twin brothers. Their names are Evander and Michael Cross."

"And they're the ones that pieced all this together?"

"Yes. I don't know what exactly for because they don't tell us the important stuff."

"Figures," she commented dryly. "Where can I find Evander?"

"He spends most of his nights in the strip clubs in Killeen. The Bunny Club is his favorite. He's got a weak spot for the ladies, I guess. He thinks with his other head most of the time."

Alex smiled. "Here's a question for you. How many of you punks recognize my face on sight? Would he?"

The kid shook his head. "Michael is the one that gave the order to kill the kid in the hospital. All he knew is that the two of you might show up. It's not like we have wanted posters with your faces on them. The one that shot Trevor that night, he came back with a vague description. We only knew we were looking for a guy and girl, your age, and had only a slight clue as to what you looked like."

"So how did you know it was us when you decided to attack?"

"We didn't," he answered honestly.

"Where can we find Michael?" she demanded.

"He's a little harder to track down. He spends a lot of time in the library but other than that I couldn't tell you."

"Which library?"

"The one in Killeen. There's only one," he replied.

"All right. I'm gonna let you go now and you're gonna keep your damn mouth shut or I'll come back and cut out your tongue," she warned.

The kid nodded and she released him. She watched him pick up his backpack and run off as though the hounds of Hell were on his heels before smiling to herself. A college cult leader with a soft spot for hot strippers. _This could be easier than I thought._

"So let me get this straight," Dean said from where he leaned against the side of the Nova. Alex leaned next to him, their shoulders nearly brushing, and tapped her cigarette to send the ashes swirling to the black pavement below. "You want to go to a strip club tonight and pretend to be a stripper to get Evander Cross to spill his guts."

"Nothing quite as simple as that," she replied. "We know he is there almost every night and we can assume that he's got protection covering him. The easiest way to go about this is to lure him away from his safety."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "So you want to strip?"

"Not want, need. It looks like the only way to get little Evander by himself. I'm sure if he wants something, or someone, bad enough then he'll forget about safety protocol. We can't just attack him in public and even if we wait until the strip clubs close we'll still have to deal with witnesses and his own security force."

"Which we're just assuming he has," Dean supplied.

"Oh come on. The cult knows we're out there, they just don't know who we are. They are going to be watching their backs and for our two favorite leaders that means extra protection. It's common sense. What's the matter? You don't like the plan?" she asked.

"I could answer that if I knew exactly what the plan was," he replied.

Alex sighed and swept her hair behind her ear. "The plan is we go to the Bunny Club tonight, I do my thing, he takes the bait, you cover my back so I don't get hit from behind by any surprises, and at the end of the night he comes home with me. Where, incidentally, you'll be waiting. We can work out the details at the mall," she answered.

"The mall?" he asked questioningly.

"I need new clothes," she said mischievously.

Dean got in the passenger seat and tried not to think about what he would be witnessing tonight. _This is going to be harder than I thought._

The Bunny Club was small and slightly claustrophobic in Dean's opinion. He sat on a stool at the bar, trying to ignore the haze of smoke that stung his eyes, and observed the patrons. Alex had been right. Evander Cross, identified by the bartender, was sitting in the red leather chairs in front of the stage and there were several other watchful college age kids scattered around the place. They were scanning the crowd just as much as Dean himself was and Dean did his best to blend in. He clutched the beer mug the bartender had put in front of him and hunched his shoulders, keeping a careful eye on Evander. The woman on stage was a buxom blonde whose moves were erotic, if somewhat jerky. Dean could tell she was on something, more than likely she had gotten high before coming onstage, as he knew a lot of girls did. Some of them had only this going for them as a living and as a way to cope they dulled their senses. It was seen more often in prostitutes, but strippers had a hard time dealing with their lives too at times. He wondered how much clothing Alex would be removing then realized that the first dance done by the strippers was fully clothed and the second topless. He then wondered if she would be doing the second dance and was surprised at the anger tightening his throat when he thought of the other men in the room seeing her. He wanted to run backstage and tell her not to do it, that they could find a different way, but he knew logically this was the best way.

"Refill?" the bartender asked, pointing to Dean's now empty glass.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need it," he replied.

The blonde left the stage and the place seemed empty without the flashing lights and pounding bass music. The lights flashed back on, throwing a mix of blue and red across the room, and a bass beat heavy mix came on. The music was primitive and tribal with soothing sound rhythms mixed in that made Dean think of hot and sweaty sex. He caught his breath when Alex appeared at the back of the stage. She was breathtaking. Her long red hair fell in layers around her shoulders and her lithe form was sheathed in black leather pants, high heeled boots, and a lace up corset black leather top. Every head in the room stopped to stare as she moved out onto the stage. She focused her attention on Evander, moving her body in accordance to the rhythm of the music. Dean watched her dance and was mesmerized by the grace of her moves, the way her body curved and undulated, hips rotating in a manner that had every male member in the room thinking of a bedroom. She had been onstage no more than a minute and put every other dancer to shame. She crouched down on the edge of the stage, holding her balance as perfectly as a cat, and grabbed Evander by his shirt. Dean could see him swallow hard as she moved her chest in a seductive manner, rotating her shoulders while swaying back and forth. She put her mouth near his ear and Dean saw her lips move. A smile washed across his face and she shoved him gently back into his chair before rising slowly. She took hold of the gold pole in the center of the stage and swung one leg around it. Dean realized he was getting hard just watching her. She manipulated the pole and her movements around it like a pro, long red hair flying, body taunting with the promise of more. When the music finally stopped and Dean's loins were aching so badly he thought they would burst, she blew Evander a kiss and strode offstage to disappear behind the thick black curtain. The room was silent before erupting in calls for an encore mixed with a few lewd remarks from the drunker customers.

Dean studied Evander and his men carefully knowing that Alex was counting on him to watch her back for her. She had admitted to him earlier, before coming here, that she was trying to limit the use of her demonic blood. Without it she was just as any other mortal woman albeit with more kick-ass moves from her martial arts and gymnastics training. It was up to him to make sure she stayed safe so she wouldn't have to rely on the power inside her. It touched him that she was relying on him instead.

Dean saw Evander get up and move to the door. He watched two of his bodyguards approach and saw that Evander was telling them to stay put. Apparently he was going to take Alex up on her offer right now. Dean paid for his drinks and slid off the stool, shouldering his way through the crowd and out the door before Evander could leave or notice him. He jogged across the parking lot and crouched behind the Nova, watching the door to see where Evander went. Alex had left the keys to her car with him, knowing that he would probably need to follow her with it. Dean wasn't going to let her down. He knew that Alex had no intention of sleeping with this asshole and he also knew Evander most likely would not take no for an answer. Dean would honor the trust she had placed in him. If she wasn't going to use her inborn power then Dean was going to do everything in _his_ power to protect her.

He watched Alex come around the side of the building and follow Evander to his car, a black Lexus, before getting into the drivers seat of the Nova. When they exited the parking lot he followed, keeping his distance, not wanting to tip Evander off. He kept his eyes on the taillights of the Lexus and prayed that Alex could handle her own until he got there.

Alex made as little small talk as she could and tried not to keep checking the rearview mirror to see if Dean was following. She knew in her heart he was; he was the roguish hero-type, the one to kick down the door and rush in to save the day. She was definitely not the damsel-in-distress kind of girl but right now, in order to minimize the use of her blood, she had to rely on his back up. She noted how Evander kept taking his eyes off the road to appreciate her assets and had to choke down a feeling of revulsion. Evander was good-looking to be sure, but the evil inside him could be felt in spades. He had bright green eyes, tanning-salon browned skin, and bleach blonde hair that was cut short and spiked with about a gallon of gel. His clothes were all designer label, Tommy Hilfiger, and he looked like he was going to go star in a commercial for The Gap. If all American, psycho cult leader, spoiled rich kids were her type then she would have been with the right guy. Dean, however, with his dazzling green eyes flecked with gold, muscled body and chiseled good looks was more her type. She waited patiently while he pulled through the black iron wrought gates of an expensive apartment complex. She tried not to think about how in the hell Dean was going to get through those gates and past the security guard. She knew he would find a way, however extreme. A few minutes later they were walking up the steps to apartment 47B and then she was inside and trapped with a man who had only one thing on his mind.

Dean followed the car until he reached the black iron gates and realized he was going to have to do this the anti-hero way. He pulled the car into a parking lot belonging to a cleaning service across the street and jogged across the street. The gate was high and not exactly perfect conditions for climbing but Dean was fueled by adrenaline and he managed, reaching the top with effort and launching himself over to land in a silent crouch on the other side. He studied his surroundings carefully. Ahead of him the brand new apartment complex stretched out with building on all sides of the area and a massive swimming pool lit by soft yellow lights in the center of them. To his right was the guard station and he could vaguely make out the sound of _The Simpsons_ playing on one of those small televisions. He could see tennis courts and a basketball court in the far back of the complex and off to his left a building that was clearly a gym from all the equipment that could be seen through the glass windows. He thought about just sneaking past the guard but then realized that he had no idea where Evander had taken Alex. He was wasting time. He removed the .45 caliber pistol that he was carrying in the waistband of his faded jeans and took the safety off as he snuck up to the side of the guard station. The door on the other side was well built oak wood with a glass window in the middle. The building itself was as about as large as a small shed and had thick glass windows surrounding it for full view of the whole complex and the road leading to the outer gate. He snuck around until he was in front of the door, hid the gun behind his back, and knocked on the door loud enough to catch the guard's attention but no one else's. The guard, a young brown haired man in his early twenties, peered through the window in agitation and puzzlement.

"Hey! Open up! I pay how much for these damn apartments so that my next door neighbor can keep me up all night banging the hooker he brings home?" Dean demanded in a fake outrage.

The guard cracked the door and Dean took the advantage to shove his shoulder into it, forcing the young guard backwards. He entered the guard station and kicked the door shut behind him, holding his gun steady at the young man's chest. The guard went to draw his own sidepiece but Dean shook his head.

"I wouldn't do that," he warned. "Just tell me which apartment Evander Cross is in."

"That's confidential!" the guard exclaimed.

"He has a friend of mine there with him and if you don't tell me what the apartment number is in the next five seconds you'll be spending your weekend in the hospital," Dean growled.

"47B," the guard told him. "Is someone in trouble?"

Dean was surprised at the guard's willingness to believe him and desire to help. He truly regretted what he did next.

"They won't be by the time you wake up," he responded. "Sorry man."

Dean pistol whipped the guard and rushed out of the guard house before he had even hit the ground.

Alex had done everything she could think of to stall Evander. It was obvious he was getting tired of her games and she actually felt fear grip her chest. She wouldn't be able to stop his intentions without turning on him. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her up against the far bedroom wall, enveloping her mouth in a hungry kiss. She pushed him away and backed off a few steps.

"You know what? I'm sure a lot of girls would love to be with you," she said hurriedly. "But I've changed my mind."

She rushed out of the room, feeling the anger from his assault expanding in her chest, threatening to swallow her efforts to keep the evil at bay. She had to get out before it took control. Her anger was consumed by fear as hands shot out and locked around her waist, throwing her to the plush beige carpet. Her head struck a wooden end table as she went down and Alex felt the cut open up on her forehead and blood pour down the side of her face. Evander was on top of her then, taking advantage of the fact that she was stunned by the blow to rip open her top. She tried to kick him off but he stayed put and all she got for her efforts was a vicious backhand that made her head reel. She felt his hands on her and wanted to scream but the blood loss was making her dizzy. The cut must be worse than she had originally thought. She brought her right leg up to her butt as close as she dared and pulled out the six inch hunting blade she kept there for emergencies. He grabbed hold of the wrist she swung down with and she used the moment of distraction to kick him off her. She stood, swaying slightly, leaning against the wall for support and held the knife out in front of her.

"How cute," he snarled.

He lunged and Alex was shocked at his speed and prowess. She realized belatedly that he probably had gotten some kind of abilities in return for his service to whatever he was worshipping. He flew at her and rotated his body at the last second to let his elbow collide with the side of her face while bringing his hand up to snap the knife from her hand. He caught the knife before it dropped to the carpet, rotated it until the handle was in his grip, and plunged it down into her thigh. Her scream was muffled by his hand over her mouth.

"Let's not wake the neighbors," he admonished.

He yanked the blade out, tossed it to the floor and pushed her back to the carpet by her throat. She flipped him over her head with the heel of her boot and sent him tumbling into the wall behind her. She stood up and had to fight to keep upright with her leg injury. She spun on her good leg and brought her injured one around to connect with his face. He recovered from the blow and punched her, causing her lips to split and a trickle of blood to run from her nose. He took hold of her long red locks and proceeded to drag her into the bedroom by her hair and Alex was terrified to realize that she didn't have enough energy to call upon the change. Her head was spinning and her blood was still running freely, causing her to feel nauseous and dangerously light headed. Her vision swam and her limbs were shaking. Evander apparently decided he didn't want his black silk sheets bloodied and instead began unbuttoning her pants on the floor. _Hell no, _she thought with fury. _I'm not going to be a victim. _ She felt her eyes change, felt the hatred take hold of her soul, and used the last vestiges of her strength to punch him in the face and launch him into the wall with her good leg. She climbed to her feet and stumbled toward the front door, nearly collapsing on the way. She heard Evander cursing and coming after her. She fumbled with the locks on the door and yanked it open, falling into Dean's arms.

"Jesus Christ," Dean gasped.

His jaw tightened in anger and he raised the gun at Evander's face when the man came barreling into the living room. Dean supported Alex's weight and moved across the threshold, pushing the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot.

"Get on your face!" he snapped. "Now!"

Evander dropped to his knees and fell to the carpet on his face. Dean gripped Alex's waist tighter as she turned and buried her bloodied face in his shoulder. Dean's rage was palpable, his gun hand shaking as he fought not to shoot the bastard in the head.

"Dean," Alex said quietly, her breath warm against his neck. "It's okay. It was my idea, remember?"

"Look what he did to you," Dean replied huskily.

"Think of what I'll do to him," she answered. "I'm a quick healer."

Dean managed a slight smile at her bravery and held the gun on Evander while he sat her down gently against the wall. She gripped his free hand and he put it to her cheek in a tender gesture. Alex kissed two of her slender fingers and brushed them against his lips before her grip slackened and she slipped into unconsciousness. He brought her head to rest gently on the carpet and rounded on Evander.

Dean was only slightly surprised when the door flew open and the young security guard burst in, weapon drawn.

"Hold it!" he yelled.

"Officer, this man . . . .," Evander started.

"_This _man," Dean cut in. "Tried to rape my friend."

The security guard looked to where Alex laid, bloodied and bruised, and knelt down to take her pulse. When he looked back up his expression was hard.

"I'm calling the cops," he said flatly.

"Wait," Dean said. "I am a cop."

"What?" the guard asked incredulously. "What the hell did ya hit me for then?"

"Didn't have time for pleasantries. Here's my badge," Dean said and fished out the fake Killeen Police Department ID that he had had forged before coming onto this case. It stated his name was Duncan Harris. "It's complicated but I'm off duty right now and my vehicle is across the street from the gate. We've been looking for this creep for a long time. If you could help me get him to my car I'll take him in and book him. Save my fellow officers a trip."

"What about the girl?" the guard asked.

"You get Mr. Cross here and I'll get her. I'll take her to the hospital after I drop him off. She hates ambulances," he explained.

The guard nodded and cuffed Evander's hands behind his back. Evander started hollering about police brutality and his innocence but the guard had bought Dean's ruse completely and ignored his protests. Dean scooped up Alex and cradled her in his arms, carrying her out to the Nova with all the ease of carrying a five year old child. Dean thanked the security guard after Evander had been secured in the backseat and Alex in the front.

"Glad to be of service," the guard said with a smile and a formal salute.

Dean saluted back and watched him walk away before leaning into the backseat where Evander sat.

"Welcome to Hell," he told him before knocking him out with the butt of his gun.

Dean pulled the car out of the parking lot and drove out of the town city limits, heading for an abandoned house he had spotted from the road on the way into town. They were going to need their privacy.

"I found a ritual through one of my contacts," Father O'Brien said.

Sarah held her breath and glanced at Sam who was studying Father O'Brien's face intently. Neither one of them had missed the apprehension in his tone. Sarah stood up and gripped the back of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Unfortunately, I am hesitant to perform it, seeing as though it uses Dark Magic."

"Dark Magic? How does it work?" Sarah asked, afraid of the answer.

"Well, in theory it would strip away the evil inside your sister's soul making her purely mortal. However one could assume that evil and power such as that would have to go somewhere or to some_thing_ else," he said slowly.

"So we'd be giving her power to something worse?" Sarah summed up.

Father O'Brien nodded. "In essence, yes. Something would come along to claim it."

Sarah fell into the chair and took comfort in Sam's hands on her shoulders. All she ever had was sisters and she had always wanted a brother. That's how she felt about Sam; they had only spent a little while together and already she felt a strong bond with him that she couldn't explain. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as her head reeled with possibilities. If Alex gave up her power what would claim it? If Alex kept her power would she be able to control it for the rest of her life? She didn't know which was worse, knowing that they would be aiding evil by handing it more power or letting the power inside her sister grow until it consumed them all. She also knew that although Alex was a trained fighter she relied heavily on the blood in her veins in the more serious fights. She didn't know if Alex would be able to take on a werewolf as just a mortal or if she would be killed for her efforts. As it stood Alex was self-healing and any injuries took care of themselves. She wondered if Alex would continue hunting without her demon blood, if she would be able to go on.

"She's better now with it," Sarah began. "But honestly, how long can she control it?"

The priest shook his head sadly. "Evil is not something that can be contained or controlled, I'm afraid. No matter how much reign your sister has on it now there will come a day when she will lose that control and all her efforts will have been in vain."

"Which is worse?" Sarah whispered. "Sam, I don't know what to do."

Sam's hands squeezed her shoulders. "It's not our choice, Sarah. The choice is Father O' Brien's and Alex's."

Sarah looked up at the priest through tear filled eyes. "Would you? If she wanted you to would you take it away?"

The priest turned and placed his hands behind his back, staring out the large window at the back of his office for several minutes. The sun was disappearing over the horizon painting the sky in a beautiful array of pink, red, orange and gold. Swathes of dark blue were appearing above the display as night settled in and gripped the world in shadows.

"I would," he said at long last, turning around to face them. "Because what you are doing, standing against Satan and his minions, saving people's lives, is worth the cost. People who fight, who push back the darkness, they are rare. And if I do not do this then that is once less person in this world making a difference. I will not stand by and allow a soul to fall to evil."

Sarah breathed an audible sigh of relief and stood up, gratitude shining in her eyes. She knew she didn't have to say anything and instead pulled out her cell phone and stepped out of the office, leaving the two men to discuss the finer details. She left the church and stood for a long time on the steps, the wind whipping at her long sweater and biting at her skin. There was evil afoot tonight and Sarah could feel it. She felt its eyes upon her, watching intently, waiting for the right time to strike as a rattlesnake would its prey. She shivered not from the cold but from fear and made her phone call.

Dean sat with his back against the wooden wall, listening to the wind whistling through the cracks in the long abandoned house, and cradled Alex in his arms. He watched as her wounds stitched themselves shut slowly, first the split lip, then the tiny cuts on her face, and the serious cut on her forehead. They disappeared as if they had never existed and the only proof to the contrary was the bloodstains they left behind. He wondered how long her leg would take to heal and felt his anger bubble to the surface at the thought of what Evander Cross had done. He had wrapped his maroon over shirt around her leg wound to stop the flow of blood but he knew from her skin tone, a pale sweat sheened white, that she had lost a great deal of blood already. He had taken the time to change her torn top with a replacement from her duffel bag in the car. Dean wanted to begin "questioning" his prisoner but he didn't want to let Alex go. So he sat there staring down at her beautiful face and realizing how much younger and softer it appeared when she sleeping. He had tied Evander securely to a chair in the middle of the room and the kid was still knocked out from the solid blow Dean had given him.

Dean heard the sound of Alex's voice speaking softly, but firmly, and realized he had fallen asleep. He cracked open one eye and saw her standing at a window on the other side of the room. Dean realized dawn was approaching as the sky lightened from liquid black to a soft purple color that would soon blend with pastel pinks and reds. He strained to hear what Alex was saying and found that he could make out her words clearly in the silence of the abandoned house.

" . . . .can't do this anymore. I thought it would be easy, but it's making me weak," she was saying.

She listened to whoever was on the other end and sighed in agitation as she switched the phone to her other ear. "Sarah, I know the consequences. I've had to live with them my whole life. This guy says he can get rid of it, that's great. Maybe later on, when I'm actually ready. All this trying to balance emotions and be human crap almost got me killed. I'm done. I was more effective not giving a damn."

She listened more and Dean saw her shift her weight in growing anger. "We'll talk about this later, when you get back. I don't know what else to tell you right now."

Alex pivoted on her heel and sank down against the wall in a crouch. Dean quickly snapped his eye shut so she wouldn't notice he wasn't still asleep but not before he noted that her wounds had all but vanished. _And in the department of cool superhero powers, I totally got jipped._

"Look, if it's going to upset you this much I'll keep trying. Okay? I'm just saying that trying to not use what I've been using my whole life is hindering me right now. I don't want to go all psycho evil anymore than you want me to, but I'm also not loving the idea of ending up deceased."

Dean realized that she and her sister were discussing the demonic blood inside her veins and Alex was tired of trying to be more human than not. He understood where she had jumped the logic train and gotten off at the stop she was at. After what had happened last night he wasn't sure he would be too keen on having emotions either. He knew she now thought that trying to do everything the normal way was making her weak and ineffective. She hadn't been able to put Evander in his place because she had been too busy trying not to go all demon-evil on his butt. He shook himself from his thoughts and focused on Alex's voice again.

"Yeah, okay. See you tonight. Love you," Alex was saying.

She disconnected and Dean waited a few minutes before opening his eyes as though he had just woken up. He hadn't forgotten the feel of her fingers brushing against his lips the other night and wondered what that had meant. They had gotten closer than ever last night, emotionally speaking, and Dean was forced to examine his own feelings and wonder if it had meant anything. The situation had been charged and she had been vulnerable, which was probably not something that happened very often for her. He was attracted to her physically, there was no doubt about that, and he liked that she could handle herself when things got tough. She had taken a bad beating last night and hadn't raised one complaint about it which he respected. He wasn't sure how he felt about her, other than he cared for her more than he was ready to admit. He didn't know if it was love and he figured that was probably because he had spent so long denying his emotions on everything he wouldn't know love if it smacked him in the face anymore. He cleared his throat to let her know he was awake and stood up to stretch out his muscles.

She looked up from where she had been studying an apparently very interesting scratch on the hardwood floor and locked gazes with him from across the room.

"They'll be home tonight," she told him.

"That's good. Did they find anything interesting?" he asked, testing her honesty.

She hesitated and held the phone loosely in her hand. She had positioned herself in a predatory crouch on the floor and one arm was draped across her right leg. She seemed to be wondering to herself how much she should tell him.

"The priest says he can do it, but I don't want him to right now," she finally said. "And there are complications to it that I have to think about."

He nodded and popped his neck. "What kind of complications?"

"The evil would have to go somewhere other than inside me," she answered. "It could be picked up by something worse than me, or bounce into another human being that can't control it like I can."

Dean pressed his lips together. It wasn't only a decision about whether or not she was better off without it, but a moral dilemma now. He couldn't help but wonder what she would decide to do.

Alex stood up and pocketed her cell phone. She jerked her head in Evander's direction. "I think we have work to do."

She strode across the room with a sense of purpose and fury mixed into one. Dean stood well out of her way, understanding that whatever she did was part of her own healing process and he would be better served not to interfere or stop her. He watched her plant the heel of her boot in Evander's chest and kicked the chair over with him in it.

"What the hell!" he yelled as he was rudely awakened.

He stared up at her as Dean walked over to stand a few feet away. "You have just become Radio Shack. We've got questions, you've got answers."

"Whether or not we dig them out the hard or easy way depends on you," Alex added. "Personally, I'm hoping you choose the hard way."

Evander pressed his lips together and said nothing in response to her threat. She nodded at Dean and he sat the chair up so that the kid was facing Alex. She leaned down and took his jaw in her hand making sure to add enough pressure to make it painful.

"You're going to tell us _exactly _what you and your buddies are up to and you're not getting out of this room until you do," she informed him.

"So," Dean added. "What are these girls being killed for?"

"I ain't gonna tell you anything," Evander spat.

Alex nodded slowly. "Okay. The hard way then."

She backhanded him viciously and placed her fingers on the pressure point on his collarbone, squeezing until his face contorted in pain. She ignored his cries of pain and protest and applied pressure until tears sprang to his eyes. Dean crouched down beside the kid and patted his shoulder in mock sympathy.

"I'd start talking if I were you," he told him.

"Okay! Okay!" Evander gasped. "The girls . . .the girls are sacrifices."

"Tell us something we don't know," Alex grated, finding a new pressure point behind his ear.

"Aaaagh!" he cried. "We're collecting their blood to bring a demon through to this plane."

"Finally, we're getting somewhere!" Alex said with mock enthusiasm. She released him and stepped back to stand in front of him.

"Which demon?" Dean asked.

"Malachi," he replied.

"Never heard of him," Alex said.

"Demons don't exactly going around handing out their real names," Evander said with an air of superiority. "We worship him. For every girl we kill he gives us something in return."

"Something like what?" Dean demanded.

Evander shrugged. "Money, women, cars, good things just happen. And bad things when Malachi doesn't get what he wants."

"Oh, I think I'm gonna cry now," Alex sneered. "Poor, unloved demon doesn't get what he wants. How sad."

"What's the point in bringing him through?" Dean asked, getting back on track.

"To wreak havoc and chaos of course. To pay back all those in this friggin city who did us wrong."

"You do realize," Alex said slowly, as if speaking to a five year old, "that demons don't make deals with mortals. If you bring him through he'll kill all of you too, and then go kill everyone else."

Evander shook his head in denial of her statement. "No he won't. He needs us."

Alex snorted derisively and shook her head at his idiocy. She knew there were mortals out there who worshipped demons but every time she encountered them she was more amazed at their stupidity. Dealing with demons was the most dangerous thing a person could do and yet people seemed to think of it as a game. What they didn't realize, or didn't care about, was this game didn't come with a save spot or a pause button.

"Yeah, okay, you just keep telling yourself that," Dean told him. "What about Mark Jones? Ya know, the big hairy guy with the huge teeth?"

"He works for me," Evander replied.

"Well, ya don't say," Alex said sarcastically. "Gosh Dean, I didn't know that, did you?"

"I had no idea," Dean answered, playing along.

"We're not stupid," Alex snarled, rounding on Evander. "But I'm really starting to think you fell out of the stupid tree and hit every damn stick on the way down."

"You'll see," Evander said huffily. "When we summon forth Malachi, you'll all be regretting everything you ever did to wrong us."

"Oh gosh," Alex snapped. "Is this where you tell us your evil plan? Cuz I could care a little less if I give it some effort."

"Malachi isn't going to avenge you, Evander. He's going to kill you and every other person he crosses," Dean said.

"All right. Big, tall, and hairy, he's working for you right? How do you pick the girls?" Alex demanded.

"Most of them are his ex girlfriends, or girls that wouldn't get with him, like the strippers. He picks them; I don't have anything to do with that."

"How do you get the blood drained? Werewolves don't do that."

Evander grinned sadistically. "It takes awhile but if you hold the body at just the right angle it all comes out eventually."

"That's sick man," Dean informed him. "Really, really, sick."

Evander said nothing in response. Alex shook her head in disgust and turned to Dean.

"What do you want to do? These guys may be perverted and twisted, but they're still human beings."

Dean shook his head. "I don't know yet. I'm really wishing I could just kill him, but I'm already wanted for murder in one state." Dean stopped and thought for a second. "Or at least I would be if there hadn't been a funeral."

Alex stopped pacing long enough to give him a questioning look.

"Don't ask," Dean told her. "It's a long story."

Alex smiled slightly and Dean thought that was a good sign. He was wondering what they were going to do with this situation. They couldn't kill the cult psychos because they were human beings. They could turn the case over to the local police but that wouldn't solve the problem of Mark's lycanthropy. They could find their hideout and get rid of the blood they had collected already and anything else that was relevant but it wouldn't stop the geeks from trying again after they were gone. Dean wasn't too sure what they should do about this one. He thought that maybe Sam would have a few ideas when he got back with Sarah.

"Okay let me sum it up," Sam said. "We have a crazy werewolf, two crazy cult leaders in charge of a crazy cult, a crazy demon, and people crazy enough to want to bring him to our side of reality."

"Yup," Dean said. "That's about the gist of it."

"The problem here is that we're only dealing with two non-human things. The rest of them are just kids. Albeit, idiotic kids with a death wish," Sarah added.

It was eight at night and the four had just reunited. Sarah had wanted to bring the priest along but Alex had told her that they would visit him when she was ready. Evander was still tied to the chair in the middle of the room and they stood huddled in the far corner out of his earshot.

"So the question now is what do we do?" Sam asked.

"Well, we could turn the kids over to the police. If there isn't enough evidence to charge them, we could get them to confess on tape," Sarah suggested. "Like they do in the movies."

Dean let out a low chuckle. "We'd have to nail all of them or someone else will take over and finish the job when we're gone."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "There are ways to reverse lycanthropy. Or we could just kill him and call it a job well done."

"He's still a human being most of the time," Sarah said doubtfully.

"Yeah, but not a very good one."

Sarah conceded her sister's point and let it go at that. It wouldn't be the first werewolf they had killed and Sarah had reached the point in their career where she no longer questioned her sister's moral judgment.

"Call me crazy, but we could summon the damn demon ourselves and put it out of its misery so it won't be a threat anymore," Dean said.

Sarah stared wide-eyed at him. "Yeah, I think I'm going to have to call you stark raving mad."

"No, he's right. That would solve a least one of our problems. If the kids don't have their very favorite demon teddy bear to call upon for vengeance, then maybe they'll break apart."

Sam stared at the floor in thought. "Here's what I've come up with. We get the kids to confess and hand them over to the cops. Then take Mark Jones out of the picture so he's no longer a threat, one way or the other. After that, if we want to make sure this is over we can do like Dean suggested and just get rid of the demon."

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest to ward off a sudden chill. She had seen many things by her sibling's side and most of them she still had nightmares about. Alex had faced down a demon or two in her career but Sarah had never been there to witness. She knew that demons were the worst of the worst and something that nobody ever wanted to face. She snapped back to reality and saw the other two nodding in agreement.

"That could work. We'll have to split up again," Dean said.

"Well, let's decide who's best for each job."

Sam's statement was cut short by the front door splintering and crashing onto the floor. Alex immediately moved her body to shield Sarah and watched as Mark Jones came hulking into the living area. He looked from Evander to them a few times and then moved towards his trussed up leader.

"I'll take this job," Alex said. "No need to draw straws."

She pushed her sister into Sam's arms and gave him a look that said very clearly "let her get hurt and I'll kill you myself" before moving to block the werewolf's path. She saw Dean run out the shattered front door out of the corner of her eye then quickly dismissed everything else in the room except Mark.

She was tired of being weak and getting pushed around. She had never in her life come so close to being a victim as she did last night and she had plenty of rage left over to go around in extra lethal doses. She had always been able to handle her own and then some until she had lost sight of who she really was. She knew there was a way to balance out both sides of her inner coin but at the moment she wanted to go back to what she did best.

She reached down inside herself and pulled up her inner power, feeling the change wash over her. She felt her emotions slide to the backburner, felt the slight stinging as her eyes went from ice blue to onyx black, felt the strength flow into her limbs. She felt lighter on her feet and knew that she could jump amazing heights. She felt faster than usual and knew she could move with speed that would shock a mortal. She felt stronger and knew she could take this fur ball down.

Mark charged her in all his werewolf fury and she danced out of the way, spinning around his side and launching a back kick as he went past that landed squarely on his lower back. He stumbled and turned around to face her again. She leaned her weight back and extended her arm, beckoning to him Matrix-style and grinned. He let out a roar that shook the walls of the house and tried to charge her again, attempting to knock her over with his weight. She jumped when he came within reach and brought her right leg over in an arc to connect with side of his head with her full strength. He went flying into the far wall and she was on him in an instant. He fended off her attack with his massive arms and reached out to bat her away. She went tumbling across the ground and turned her fall into a backwards somersault, landing in a feral crouch. She reached down into the hidden sheath inside her boot and pulled out her hunting knife. He jumped back as she leapt forward to swipe at him with the hilt resting in her hand and the blade held securely against her forearm. He brought his arm up to block and Alex swung the knife, cutting a deep wound into his arm. He growled in pain and tried to swing at her but she ducked under the clumsily slow blow and rushed in close, bringing the knife to bear. His body tightened as she grabbed a fistful of hair on his back and sank it in to the hilt in his abdomen. She pulled it out and kicked him down to the floor just as Dean appeared at her side, holding a gun trained on Mark.

"So you can change at will," Dean said. "Change back."

Mark snarled at him and Dean released the safety on the gun and cocked it. "I said change back fur bag. These are silver bullets. Please give me an excuse to put one in you."

They watched as his body began to shrink and the muscles returned to their normal size. The fur rippled and became smooth human flesh. Alex could hear his bones grinding as they returned to their mortal size and wondered how painful that was. The claws and massive hands blended to normal size until Mark lay there on the floor, sweating and gasping.

"Oh, that's great," Alex commented, turning away. "Sarah, get a blanket or something."

"Why isn't this healing?" he demanded angrily, holding the knife wound Alex had inflicted.

"Oh yeah, that," Alex chuckled. She flipped the blade in her hand and held it out for Mark to see. "Made from silver."

Sarah came back with the blanket and tossed it onto Mark who had enough sense to cover himself. Dean kept the gun carefully trained on him as Sarah backed away again.

"That was probably the worst rescue I've ever seen," Alex informed Mark.

"Well, I have a surprise for you," he said with a snicker. "I didn't come alone."

Alex and Dean looked to the door just as about twelve robed college kids came pouring through it. Dean looked back to Mark to find that he was mid-change again and swore to himself. Sam pushed Sarah behind him and punched the first kid that approached him in the nose hard enough to break it.

Two of the kids rushed over to untie Evander but were met by Alex. She punched one in the gut while kicking the other simultaneously and they fell back. She grabbed the kid she had punched and picked him up by the shirt, throwing him into the nearest wall and bowling over another one in the process. The other kid tried to punch her and she brought her forearm up to block, knocking his arm out of the way and letting her fist meet with his jaw. She kicked out and connected solidly with his groin before backhanding him hard enough to send him flying.

Dean pistol whipped one of the kids coming at him in the temple then moved past him and hit the same kid in the back of the head with the gun to knock him out. He kicked another in the chest and when the punk stumbled back from the blow he closed in with a solid punch that left him on the floor. Another kid rushed up and locked his arms around Dean. He threw his weight forward and the kid tumbled over his back and onto the floor in front of him.

"I'd recommend staying down," Dean advised him.

He tried to get back up instead.

"Have it your way," Dean said, shrugging.

He kicked him in the gut and brought his fist down low to punch him in the side of the face. The kid didn't get back up. Dean nodded to himself and rushed over to help his brother out.

Sam pushed one of them away from him and Sarah while grabbing another by the shirt and tossing him into the nearest wall. Sarah kicked the one he had thrown into the wall and knocked him out. Sam blocked a blow aimed at his temple and put his fist in the guy's exposed gut, and then hooked his leg around his attacker's. The kid lost his balance and fell, knocking his head against the unforgiving floor. Two of them tackled Sam down and in the commotion he thought he heard Sarah call his name. He brought his leg up and kicked one of them in the head. One of them was suddenly pulled off Sam as his brother rushed in to the rescue. Dean pulled the kid to his feet and sent him headfirst into the wall while Sam punched the other kid on top of him and kept punching until he was out cold.

Sam looked around and saw Alex in a full scale battle with Mark again. He couldn't see Sarah anywhere.

"Dean!" he cried.

"What's up?" his brother responded, while trying to fend off one of the cult kids that had gotten back up.

"Sarah's gone," Sam told him and rushed out the front door.

Dean knocked out the kid that was harassing him and turned to find the gun across the room where he had dropped it. He rushed to it and scooped it up off the floor just as he saw Mark grab Alex by the throat and lift her off her feet. She brought her foot up and pushed against his chest to break his grip. She fell to the ground and came back up in a fighting stance.

"Alex!" he yelled, unable to get a clear shot with all their moving around.

She turned at the sound of his voice and he threw the gun. It arced into the air and she reached up to catch it, flipping it around and bringing it to bear in front of her. Mark tried to rush her before she could get the shot off but Alex had been a cop in Los Angeles. She squeezed off the shot and watched the werewolf jerk before falling to the ground. His body reverted back to human form as blood pooled around the wound in his heart. He looked up at Alex with eyes full of fear and pain before they glassed over and he took his last breath. She put the safety on the gun and felt Dean's hand on her shoulder.

"Sam said Sarah was missing," he told her gravely. "Come on."

They ran outside to find Sam lying on his side near the road. He wasn't moving.

"Sam!" they cried together.

Dean reached his brother's side and rolled him over. There was a shallow cut across Sam's forehead that trickled blood down the side of his face. Dean felt frantically for a pulse and was relieved to feel his brother's heartbeat strong and steady as always. Alex knelt by Sam's side and looked at Dean from across him.

"I don't see Sarah anywhere," she told him.

"I think I'm going to have to venture a guess and say those creeps took her," Dean replied.

"Dammit!" Alex exclaimed. "I'm gonna kill them all!"

Sam groaned and rolled over to gaze up at Alex.

"Alex," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop them . . . ."

"Shh," Alex said gently, putting two fingers to his lips. "I don't blame you."

Sam sat up slowly with Dean's help and looked around the now silent area. He had a look of despair and anger stamped across his features and Alex imagined he was beating himself up over letting them get Sarah. She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before standing up and offering him her hand. He took it and she pulled him to his feet.

"Don't worry, Sam," she said. "We'll get her back. I swear it."

"You must be Michael," Alex said with a razor in her voice.

She had driven 90 mph the whole way to the college and spent two hours hunting down Evander's twin while the brothers looked into the demon Malachi. She was driven by a rage so deep she was barely hanging onto her sanity. She could feel her eyes, hidden behind black Oakley sunglasses, shifting from black to blue and back again in rapid fire succession. Her blood was boiling, her muscles looking for a fight. She had managed to corner him on his way to his next class, headed to his car in the parking lot.

She reached out and grabbed his throat, slamming him up against the hood of his car. It was getting later in the evening and the parking lot was deserted of people. She knew in the back of her mind she had to be on the lookout for campus security, just in case one decided they were going to take this particular route on patrol. His bag dropped from his hand as he closed both fists around her hand on his throat and tried to pry her off. She leaned in close, placing her knee on the family jewels and reached up with her free hand to remove his glasses. She was sure there was hellfire burning in her onyx black eyes. She was also sure that he could feel her rage just as sure as he could feel her hand around his throat.

"My sister," she grated. "Your punk buddies took my sister. Where?"

She loosened her grip just enough to allow him to speak.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing," he spat. "She'll be the last sacrifice. Game over. We win."

"I. Don't. Think. So," she said. "Because you see, if you kill my sister, I will spend the rest of my life making you wish you had taken her place. Allow me to prove my point."

She smashed her fist into his gut hard enough to cause internal damage. She swung him around by the throat and let him go, bringing her leg out in a snap kick that connected with his knee. She heard the crack of bone breaking as the force of her blow snapped the bone in half. Michael dropped to the ground, unable to stand any longer. He screamed in pain until she was on him again; hand over his mouth to stifle his shrieks of agony.

"I guess you can kiss any football careers goodbye," she snarled. "Tell me where my sister is. Now."

Tears streamed down his face but his eyes were full of fury. She cocked her head and looked into those green eyes blazing with hatred, matching it with her own. She was so lost in her rage she didn't hear the campus police pull up until the gun was being cocked.

"Stand up slowly and turn around," a voice said.

"This really isn't a good time, Officer," she snapped.

"Now!"

"You really want to join this loser don't you?" she threatened.

The officer was caught off guard by the ice in her voice. "You don't even have any weapons."

She smiled without humor. "I am the weapon."

She launched herself across the few feet separating them and batted the gun out of his hand. Her hand closed the distance and connected sharply with the side of his face. She put enough into the punch to take him out of the fight for awhile. He fell and she caught him, laying him down on the blacktop so he wouldn't crack open his skull. She turned around and decided here was not the best place to continue terrorizing Michael Cross. She grabbed him by the injured leg and dragged him across the pavement, not caring how much loose gravel found its way into his skin. He screamed in pain the whole way to her car and she thought fondly of how much louder his screams were going to get.

Dean turned when Alex entered the room again, dragging a screaming Michael across the floor behind her. He cringed when he saw Michael's knee bent backward at an odd angle and winced when he saw the darkness across her beautiful face. She swung Michael around by the foot, tossing him into a wall and stalked toward him. Sam looked up mildly from the laptop he was typing away on and opted to look back at the screen.

"Maybe we shouldn't interfere," Sam said carefully.

"We always interfere."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Maybe not this time."

Dean shrugged and joined his brother at the laptop.

"Now where were we? Oh that's right. I was causing you ungodly amounts of pain," she said.

"You won't get a word out of me," he grated.

"You forget one very important thing. You're trying to summon a demon _from_ hell," she told him coldly. "I _am _hell."

She spent an hour in which both brothers had trouble blocking out the nearly inhuman screams coming from the other side of the room and they knew the true evil buried inside Alex's heart. When she stepped away from the broken, bleeding Michael he was barely recognizable. Alex slipped her knife back into her boot sheath after wiping it clean on Michael's blue silk shirt and swiped her deceptively delicate hands across her jeans. She left Michael on the floor crying and bleeding to join the brothers.

"I don't want to hear anything," she told them. "Not one word unless it's about Malachi."

Sam sucked in his breath and nodded then pointed to the screen. It portrayed a horned monstrosity with a blaze of fire behind it, ransacking a village with one poor dead man smashed underneath a cloven hoof and the rest fleeing in terror in the background.

"What do we know?" she asked.

"You okay?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine now that I've had my daily a kicking in," she replied icily. "Now what do we know?"

"Malachi is tough. He's only been seen on this plane a few recorded times throughout history and he's picky about being summoned. The ceremony has to be just right. When he does come through though things . . .well . . .go to hell in a hand basket."

Alex narrowed her eyes at the computer screen. She placed her sunglasses back on and straightened her leather jacket. "Well, this time it's a one way trip."

"Do we have a plan?" Sam whispered.

Dean led the way into the cave buried in the side of a ridge back out in the woods where he and Alex had first found Mark Jones. He held up his Zippo and the flame bounced off the rock walls that sloped steadily downward. The silence was almost deafening and seemed to hang on them like an overused blanket. Alex stepped over a snaking vine on the floor of the cave and made her way steadily behind Dean.

"Yeah. Get in, get Sarah, kill everything in sight, and get out."

"I hate to bring this up but what if we're too late?" Sam wondered morbidly.

"Then there's nowhere far enough they can run," Alex said dangerously.

Sam didn't doubt the truth to her words for a single second. He knew that Sarah was all Alex had left and he wasn't going to think for a minute that Alex wouldn't kill for the girl. He feared for the lives of anyone standing in her path more than he had ever feared for another human being's soul in his life. He had seen the darkness in her eyes and even now, when she happened to look his way without the glasses on, he could see her eyes shifting from black to blue in an eerie morphing sequence. He wondered how tight a handle she had on the evil inside her.

"Let's just," Dean said and stopped to duck a low hanging part of the ceiling, "think positive people."

They fell into silence and moved down into the bowels of the earth. The path they were on forked off after about twenty minutes of walking and Dean came to a halt before it.

"Which way?" he asked. "Should we flip a coin?"

Alex pushed past him and lifted her nose towards the air currents just barely filtering their way through the cave. She felt Dean's body heat against her shoulder and had to push her thought back where they belonged. Her feelings for him were beginning to anger her. Right now she had to concentrate more than she ever had in her life to keep her sister alive and Dean's proximity made that hard to accomplish.

"This way," she finally said, leading them to the right. "I smell blood."

Sam cocked an eyebrow and Dean responded with a "don't ask" face as they continued on, this time with Alex in the lead. Sam thought back to the confession they had gotten out of Michael, on tape, and how not only was his walking career ruined but the rest of his life as well. He had been so broken by Alex he had readily listed off the names of his compatriots into the handheld tape recorder and before they had gone on this little nature hike they had dropped him off at the hospital and left the recorder at the police station with the entire confession on it. It would be found in a few hours; plenty of time for them to get Sarah and make a clean escape with no strings attached. They would leave the rest of the college boys behind for the police to clean up and that was the extent of the plan they had formulated.

After about another ten minutes of walking they began to hear low voices chanting in what sounded like Latin. It sounded like one of those strange Gregorian chants that Sam had heard a few times in his life. They saw the flicker of orange and red appear around a sharp corner, bouncing off the walls and casting long shadows wherever a solid form crossed them. Sam could tell from the echo of the voices that they had neared a large cavern and it was probably full of the rest of the cult ready to welcome their master into this world. He felt a sharp pang of fear for Sarah and had to keep his own anger in check. It wouldn't do them any good to let their emotions rule and get them all killed. He could tell by the concentrated and serious look on his brother's face that Dean was thinking along the same lines he was. Alex stopped at the corner and pressed her back to the wall; Sam was immensely relieved that she wasn't rushing in with guns blazing. The two brothers joined her until they all stood shoulder to shoulder along the wall, listening to the sound of the chant and each trying to get a feel for how many were in the room. Alex reached to her sides and when her hands reappeared they were occupied by two wicked looking curved daggers. The blades were serrated with teeth that would scare away Jaws and the hilts were silver in the design of intertwined serpents. The mouths of the snakes came to rest where the blades began. They were beautiful and frightening all at the same time. She reversed her grip so that the blades were resting easily against her forearms as she stood in a relaxed position. Sam could tell from the way her muscles were slightly tense beneath her black leather pants. She wore the same style top they had seen her in on the first day they had all met. This one was solid black but for a Celtic cross in white stamped across her chest. The unattached long sleeves had a white flame design running up the sides and even Sam couldn't deny that she looked drop dead sexy. She wore her hair pulled back, intertwined in black leather strips but for two bangs framing her face on either side. If it hadn't been for the promise of death shining in her eyes Sam would have been fooled by her appearance.

Alex leaned slowly around the corner and then pulled back against the wall after a few seconds. She leaned in close by the brothers and shifted the weight of the blades in her hands.

"About twenty, I'd have to say," she said to where they could hear her.

"That's a lot of guys to take out," Sam offered.

Alex pushed the sunglasses up and they saw her eyes were stuck in a midnight blue color that was as frightening as it was beautiful. "That depends on your definition of take out."

Sam put his hand on her shoulder and stared into her eyes without fear. "Take out as in we don't want to kill them."

"Maybe you don't," she muttered under her breath. "All right. Fine. We'll do this the nice way. But only until they piss me off."

"How do we do this?" Dean wondered.

Alex pursed her lips and seemed to think . . .for a half a second. "The hard way."

Dean reached to grab her but she was far too fast. Her eyes shifted to a black deeper than the starless night sky and she was on her heel and rounding the corner. Dean sighed heavily and followed after her with Sam on his heels.

"I've been expecting you," Evander's voice came at them as Alex shoved her way through the ring of cult members.

"Oh yay," she remarked dryly. "And we don't even get a trumpet fanfare."

"Where's Sarah?" Sam demanded.

Evander smiled coldly and nodded to two of the red robed guys next to him. Alex held her breath as they disappeared and then came back hauling her sister with them. Sarah appeared uninjured except for the ropes and the gag on her small frame. Alex seethed with anger and was stayed only by Dean's hand on her forearm. Evander pulled out a knife and held it up for the whole congregation to see. He stepped down off the dais he had been standing on and walked to the middle of the room where a huge pentagram had been carved into the dirt floor. It was lined with torches similar to the ones lining the walls of the cavern and had arcane symbols etched around its edges. Alex could feel the power coming out of that circle and found that it didn't frighten her. Whatever waited on the other side of that gateway was a trivial matter to her. The only that mattered was keeping the last member of her family alive.

"Witness!" Evander yelled, with a look directed at Alex, "the rise of our Master!"

He held the knife high in the air and aimed it at Sarah's chest where she had been forced to her knees in front of him. Sarah's blue eyes linked with Alex's own black ones and Alex felt a surge of emotion so deep she thought it would bring her to her own knees. She gritted her teeth and pulled her arm back, letting the knife fly just as Evander brought his down in an arc. She watched without empathy as her knife found its mark in his chest and he stumbled backward. His own knife clattered to the floor and the whole room held its breath as he lurched backward and fell at the center of the pentagram.

Alex stalked forward until she was at his side then reached down to yank the blade out. She knelt down and put her mouth next to his ear as he lay dying.

"Karma's a b," she told him. "And her name is me."

She stood up and watched his blood soak the earth before turning to the two that still held her sister. Dean stepped up next to her with his ever-present gun held on them. His face appeared to be carved from stone and the anger in his eyes was palpable from a distance.

"I would highly recommend letting her go," he said. "But of course people have a habit of not listening to me. Then bad things happen."

He cocked the gun and held it steady. "I would be one of those bad things."

"Dean!" Sam yelled and the alarm in his voice turned his brother around.

Alex surged forward at that moment and attacked her sister's captors. She reversed her grip on the handles to use the hilts as a weapon instead of the blades and had both men on the ground in a matter of seconds. Sam rushed over to Sarah and began untying the girl while Alex turned to see what Dean was witnessing. One of the cult members had run up and dumped the blood they had already gathered around his fallen leader. Alex could feel the tremors in the ground rising up beneath the heels of her boots and she could see the thin lines of light appearing inside the pentagram carving. The torches blazed brighter and Dean hurried to get out of the pentagram just as Alex did. She grabbed her sister by the hand and hauled her out of the way just as the entire cavern went up in a blinding flash of light.

Then all hell broke loose.

Dean backed further away from the pentagram in the center of the room and stared with wide eyes where a hulking monstrosity had just emerged. Every robed college kid in the room threw themselves to their knees as their Master emerged from a smoking cloud at the center of the cavern.

Malachi was over seven feet tall, a red skinned beast with black horns jutting from his forehead that curved into the air above him. The horns alone were over three feet long and his hands were adorned with black claws that looked like they could slice through adamantium. His feet were cloven hooves that would have been cheesy if they weren't so frightening. He had the lower body of a four-legged animal, possibly a goat, and the fur was jet black. His eyes burned with the fires of hell and a sick smell of sulphur followed him up from wherever he had come from. When he opened his mouth Dean saw rows of jaggedly sharp teeth that made his stomach turn. Malachi had huge leathery wings folded against his back that were as blood red as his skin with veins of black running through them. He had long black hair that had a slightly oily sheen to it. Dean could feel the evil emanating off him in waves that made his stomach do cartwheels. He felt ill around this beast and for the first time in a long time Dean knew what true fear was.

Malachi looked around the room and smiled so coldly Dean wondered how people could be so idiotic as to want to serve him. He tightened his grip on the .9mm in his right hand and felt that his hands were slick with sweat. He stopped and caught his breath, forcing himself to breath normally. Malachi strode across the room and picked up one of his followers by the throat. The poor guy kicked futilely against the power of the demon before Malachi hissed a "thank you" in a voice that sounded like metal running over gravel. Dean heard the sharp snap of bone as Malachi dropped the kid to the ground and knew that his neck had been snapped like a twig from a dry oak tree.

Dean swallowed hard and fired a shot into the air to get Malachi's attention. He half hoped the diversion wouldn't work but the demon turned and narrowed his eyes at Dean's foolish bravery. He smiled and stalked forward as all the college kids got up in a panic, running into each other to escape at the same time they attacked Dean and his companions.

"Dean," Alex said, suddenly appearing at his side. "Do we know how to beat this thing?"

"Ummmm," Dean replied. "I don't think so. I'm thinking we're gonna have to improvise."

"Great."

Alex rotated the blades in her hands until they were facing forward and steeled herself for the fight ahead. She lost all track of everything else as chaos enfolded them and the only thing she was aware of was Dean and the demon. She had lost eyesight of Sam and Sarah. She squeezed the hilts of her daggers and tensed her body as Malachi approached. Malachi reached for Dean and he ducked, spinning around to appear at Malachi's back while Alex rushed in from the front.

Dean shot a round into Malachi's leg from behind while Alex swung the blades at him from the front. Malachi barely winced as the bullet sunk into his flesh and he easily fended off Alex's attack. She wondered what it was going to take to bring this monstrosity down. She was torn from her thoughts as his clawed hand swiped at her, tearing through the fabric of her shirt and breaking the skin on her abdomen. She blocked his hand as he came back around for another blood-rending strike and brought her fist into his gut with all the strength she could find inside herself. He barely stumbled and didn't seem to register that she had even hit him in the first place. Behind him Dean backed up and shot the gun off again, this time hitting Malachi in the back. Malachi ignored the bullet wound and picked up Alex by the throat. She struggled but found the effort was useless. He was too strong. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears like a thousand deafening bass drums and she felt it slow as her life-force ebbed from her body. She fought to keep it, fought to pull it back and stay alive. Her vision blurred and she lost all sense of her surroundings. She felt something warm stream from her nose as blood vessels burst from the pressure and then she felt nothing.

Dean rushed up and started beating furiously on Malachi having failed to think of anything else useful to do. He employed all the fighting maneuvers he had ever learned throughout his life. He kicked and punched in rapid fire succession, aiming for all the areas he knew should be vulnerable and was relieved when Malachi finally paid attention to the harm he was causing. Malachi reached his other hand down and backhanded Dean so hard that he went flying thirty feet across the cavern before coming to a hard landing on the ground and skidding another fifteen feet.

He lay there on the ground, breath knocked from him, until he felt the piercing pain in his side. His face was bloody from its meeting with ground and his left arm had been horribly skinned. He could feel the tiny points of pain where gravel had embedded itself into his skin. His shirt was torn and his side and back scraped raw. He tried to move and felt his shoulder scream in agony. It had been dislocated upon his landing. Dean knew some of his ribs were broken and there was a distant pain in his ankle that he couldn't quite place.

He struggled with consciousness, fighting to keep it, until finally he lost that battle and slipped into darkness.

Alex woke up with a start, feeling something solid and warm beneath her. She sucked in oxygen and was surprised at how quickly her muddled thoughts cleared. She lifted her upper body up and saw Dean lying unconscious beneath her. She pieced what had happened together quickly in her mind and felt anger overcome her. Dean must have tried to save her and gotten hurt in the process. She eased herself off him and knelt by his side, assessing the damage that had been done. His face was covered in his own blood, his black shirt torn in several places and the skin beneath scraped raw, his shoulder dislocated, and a huge midnight blue bruise covered the entire left side of his ribs. She imagined that his ribs had been broken by whatever blow he had been dealt. She felt a wave of tenderness toward him for trying to save her and reached her hand out to brush the side of his face. She flashed back to the woods where he had risked her wrath to save her soul and found herself leaning down without warning. Alex pressed her lips to his softly and a tear trailed down her face. She felt so much at this moment that it welled inside her to an almost painful degree. She kissed him with all she had before reluctantly pulling away. She brushed a hand through his hair and looked down at him one more time before rising to her feet. She saw Sam through a stand of robed college kids and knew he was fighting to get to his brother's side.

She had never had anyone in her life give up so much for her. She didn't know anyone other than Allison who would fight and fall for her. She felt the anger burning inside her chest, a tiny ember at first, and then it was fanned by the flashbacks of Dean's smile, of his laugh, of every little thing about him. He had gotten hurt trying to save her life. The ember grew until it ignited a firestorm of fury that swept through her body at a frightening speed. With every part of her that it touched she felt herself change. Her eyes burned as they melted from ice blue to stygian black and her limbs ached with the power burning through them. She felt an odd grinding sensation in her mouth and realized dimly that her canines were elongating.

She turned to look at Malachi, grinning wickedly at her from about fifteen feet away. "Okay," she said slowly. "Now I'm officially pissed."

She turned as Sam and Sarah rushed to Dean's side. Sarah stared at her, blue eyes wide with fear.

"Alex?" her voice was timid.

Sarah didn't even recognize her own sister. Not this time, not with this change. There was a shadow over Alex's face that Sarah feared. Her sister's teeth had grown to vampiric proportion and her eyes were burning with an anger so deep and intense that Sarah feared Alex was lost.

Alex stalked toward Malachi, who now had his back to her. She flipped the blades around in her hands, causing them to spin, before breaking into a run. She leapt into the air about two feet away from him and came down straddling his head and neck. Alex raised both blades into the air and arced them down, burying them to the hilt in his chest. She wasted no time in flipping herself off him, yanking the blades out as she went. He roared in pain and tried to hit her but she ducked and spun around, shooting her arm out behind her as she reversed the blade and stuck it in his gut again. She whirled around and pulled it out as she brought her right foot out in a snap kick that made him stumble backwards. He came back at her in a fury and they danced around for a few minutes, trading blows but finding themselves evenly matched. For every blow she received she returned it tenfold, and the same for Malachi. After about five minutes both combatants were bruised and bloody and Malachi had been stabbed a total of thirteen times. He was weakening and Alex knew it. He brought his hand out and hit her in the shoulder hard enough to shatter the bone inside. Alex went rolling across the ground and gritted her teeth against the pain. Her left arm was useless unless she wanted to face down the sickening waves of agony that assaulted her every time she moved it a millimeter. She stood up and thought again of Dean, lying on the ground broken and bleeding. Her arm suddenly didn't seem to matter that much. She rushed Malachi and ducked his incoming blow, slamming her fists into his gut faster than the human eye could follow and ignoring the agony that it caused her. She stepped back and spun around slamming her foot into his ribs. She was satisfied to hear them audibly snap.

Malachi let loose a roar that shook the walls of the cavern and she felt the fury building inside her with the force of tsunami. This thing tried to take away what she had just found. It would have killed everything she loved, or might love in the future, without a second thought. He would snuff out innocence, steal lives, and kill all hope until there wasn't a trace of it left inside all the while laughing. The hatred burned in her veins like liquid fire and she embraced it.

Alex took hold of that emotion and leapt into the air, easily clearing eight feet. Her spinning back kick landed squarely on the side of his face and the power behind it sent him flying twenty feet through the air. She landed, breathing heavily, barely feeling the blood soaking the side of her face or the pain that whispered to her in her arm. She picked up the blade she had dropped on the ground when her arm had been shattered and closed the distance as he lay on the hard dirt floor.

Alex crouched down on top of Malachi and crisscrossed the blades at his throat.

"When you get back to hell," she told him, "tell your boss I said hi."

She cut deep and clean, severing his head and stepped away without blinking. She felt oddly removed as they made their way from the cave, leaving the unconscious cult members behind. Sam carried his brother fireman style over his shoulder and Sarah walked with her arm around her older sister.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Alex felt a rush of love for the younger girl and put her arm around her shoulder as her eyes shifted to their natural blue. She replaced her sunglasses and smiled.

"Always."

_Four Days Later . . . . . . ._

Alex pushed open the door to Dean's hospital room and smiled at Sam in greeting.

"Hey Sam."

"Hey," he said softly. "You look better."

She nodded. "I am better."

He gave her a hug and backed toward the door. "I'll leave you alone."

She waited until he was gone before taking Dean's hand and kissing his forehead. He reached a hand up and wiped at his right eye before opening them completely. He smiled upon seeing her and Alex couldn't help but notice that his green eyes lit up. She memorized the gold flecks in them for when she wouldn't be able to see his face any longer. She wanted to always remember those eyes.

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

"The jell-o is great," he replied with a wink.

She laughed and squeezed his hand. She marveled at his bravery and confidence, how it came so easy to him.

"And the nurses?" she teased.

"Eh," he said. "Not bad."

"Sam told you what happened?"

He nodded. "Malachi's history, the kids are busted, and all is right with this part of the world again."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far but at least there isn't a demon running loose through the streets."

He chuckled and winced at the dull pain it caused in his ribs. "You sticking around?"

"Sorry but no. I've got another job waiting in Kansas. Sarah and I are leaving today."

Dean couldn't hide the disappointment that washed across his features. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

"You saved my life Dean," she said softly. "I didn't get to thank you."

"You killed the demon before it killed me and my brother right? I think that make us even."

"Not even close."

She bent over the railing and kissed his cheek softly. She wanted to kiss him but she couldn't sort out her feelings for him. She was drawn to him in a way she couldn't describe but she knew that she had work to do. They both did. She didn't want to complicate their relationship anymore than it already was. She squeezed his hand again and let it go reluctantly, stepping toward the door.

"Will I see you again?" he asked suddenly.

She smiled. "You can count on it."

She stepped out of the room and left the door open a crack. She wanted to leave both doors open; the door to his hospital room and the door to their relationship. She was afraid that if she closed one it would shut the other. She knew she would see him again and as she walked away she wondered what that encounter would bring. She smiled to herself, pushing all the other feelings aside until her heart settled on just one.

"I'll always come back to you," she whispered.

Dean sat alone in his hospital bed and could still feel the warmth of her lips against his cheek. He wanted to get up, to run after her, but he knew in his heart that this was far from over. He had never known another woman like her, with strength that flowed like iron through her veins, and a heart bigger than she could ever know. He tried to sort through his feelings and found that they were a jumbled mess. When he closed his eyes he could still see her smile and he was surprised at how it made his heart jump. He wondered how long it would be before they ran into each other again.

"Come back to me," he whispered.

80


End file.
